


Shifting Lines One Shots

by DovahTobi



Series: Shifting Lines [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, BAMF Lily Evans Potter, Emotional Hurt, Fear of losing a child, Fluff, Friendship, Grief, Hogwarts House Sorting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, James is going through things okay, Loneliness, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, One Shot Collection, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Shifting Lines canon, The Sorting Hat, Trans Character, Transgender, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23758699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DovahTobi/pseuds/DovahTobi
Summary: This is a collection of one shots that are from Shifting Line. Most are scenes we have seen from Remus's POV but told in someone else's POV/have more to them. Some are scenes Remus has no idea about. I suppose you can read these if you have not read Shifting Lines but they may make more sense if you have. Also please note this is not part 4, when I publish book 3 this will be pushed to part 5 (end game this will be either part ten or eleven). Currently T rating but possibly will be M later depending.IDK how often I’ll write these but I have a few in mind!!!If there are any Shifting Lines scenes you'd like to see from someone else's POV feel free to let me know and I may do it; no guarantees though.
Relationships: Alice Longbottom & Lily Evans Potter, Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Petunia Evans Dursley & Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Remus Lupin & James Potter, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Series: Shifting Lines [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1438801
Comments: 247
Kudos: 217





	1. When You're Sure You've Had Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter One covers a scene from Shifting Line Book Two Chapter Twenty-Four "My Illness, My Business". It is told from James's POV.

_And everybody hurts sometimes_  
_Sometimes everything is wrong_

_\- Everybody Hurts, R.E.M._

*

"I think I know what Remus has."

It had been a boring evening. Remus was off in study group while Peter was off doing some photography club stuff. James didn't mind it just being him and Sirius, but Sirius had shot down every single idea James tossed out there and now they were just hanging out in a secret corridor, James completely bored as he flipped through a magazine. But Sirius's words froze James to the core and the magazine slipped through his fingers, dropping to the floor.

" _What_?!"

James stared at Sirius in disbelief, certain he must have heard wrong.

Sirius stretched his legs out, tipping his head back. "I think I know."

"Wh... what does he have, then?" James reached for his magazine, figuring now that Sirius was just making stuff up. Sirius Black had, in James's opinion, an unhealthy obsession with Remus Lupin since the beginning. This included trying to dig in to whatever Remus's illness was. James was curious too, and Peter, but neither of them pushed as much as Sirius did. Honestly, thinking about it, Sirius's announcement wasn't too shocking. He probably cobbled together some theory and decided that was the truth.

"I... I don't think I should say quite yet," Sirius said.

James scoffed, not surprised one bit.

Sirius scowled. "Okay, okay, don't give me that. It's just not something I should throw out there without some..." He paused, narrowing his eyes slightly, "... major evidence."

"Riiiiight." James picked the magazine back up. "You know what it is but won't say."

"I don't think I should say yet!" Sirius protested. "It... okay... look... if I'm right then... he's going to be sick soon."

"Mmhmm."

"The twenty-second," Sirius continued.

James sighed. "That's a pretty specific date there, Siri."

"Don't call me that, and if I'm right about what Remus has it's a pretty specific illness." He splayed his hands out over his thighs, his pale fingers gleaming in the wandlight. "He's going to be sick. Or else pretend his mother is sick."

James's head snapped back up. "Pretend?"

"You told me yourself, _Jimmy,_ you saw his mother during the Easter holidays and she looked healthy."

"Yeah..." James looked back down at the pictures. "That doesn't mean she's not sick."

"I... don't think she's sick," Sirius said, scooting closer to James. "I think Remus is just making it up—"

"What?!" James began laughing. "Lying and saying his mother is sick?! Man, you don't make that up."

Sirius just shrugged. "Remus is. Pretty sure he is."

"Why would he lie about that?"

"I think he's trying to make us think it's not as bad as it is for him," Sirius continued. James shook his head. "You've seen him. He says his mother is sick but he looks like he's dying."

James flinched back at those words, taking in a sharp breath. "Don't."

"Come on, it's true—"

"No, don't say it that way!"

He slammed the magazine down on the floor because he knew if he kept holding it Sirius would see how shaky he was getting. Whenever any of them mentioned Remus's illness James started to get this way. When Remus talked about needing blood work done, or that 'cure' he supposedly took (which, James did have to admit, was a load of hippogriff poop) James started getting upset. He knew it was ridiculous to tell his friends to stop mentioning it, and tried to be there for Remus, but it was so damn hard because every single time all he could think about was his grandfather.

"Remus is fine," he said, breathing steadily.

Sirius frowned. "I... guess..."

"You _guess?_ No, he is. He's fine."

Remus _had_ to be fine.

Sirius didn't say anything else, and James picked his magazine back up, determined to forget any of this happened.

*

On the morning of the twenty-second, James cheerfully got out of bed. He had half-forgotten what Sirius told him the previous week until he saw Remus emerge from his bed. James stiffened, trying not to stare. Remus was pretty much white, and looking more drawn, and the dark circles under his eyes were like violent bruises. He stumbled getting out of bed and then gave a faint whimper, as if moving hurt him.

James got dressed, feeling kinda dizzy. He didn't want to look at Remus, didn't want to think about what was going on. Didn't want to think about Sirius being right. _How did he know_? James wondered as they headed down to breakfast. By the time the mail came James thought he might be able to pretend he wasn't seeing how awful Remus looked. Letters arrived for all four of them and James happily ripped into his, grinning as a couple of galleons slid out. They were going to go into Hogsmeade the next day to buy some important ingredients for a prank idea, and James had needed some money. Thank Merlin his parents never asked why he burned through his allowance so fast this month! Buying all the stuff the last time they snuck into Hogsmeade had eaten all his gold up, at least until October first. Maybe he'd ask for a raise next year, when they were legally allowed to go into Hogsmeade. He'd be thirteen by then anyway, and deserved more of an allowance—

Remus's voice broke into his thoughts. "Looks like it didn’t work."

James hadn't been paying much attention and looked up to see Remus folding a piece of parchment up. "What didn't?" he asked.

"The, um, potion Mum and I took to hopefully help us." Remus's words twisted into James like a knife. On the surface it was completely expected, but the fact he was talking about this while looking like that... "Mum's gotten sick again, it's pretty bad. I—I think I might go after classes."

James looked at Sirius, and Sirius looked right back. _He was right_. James's lips parted as he nearly said something but then Sirius kicked him. James flinched a little and realized he couldn't say anything in front of Remus. "I'm sorry to hear that," he managed to get out, wishing he could instead say, _is it really your mother_?

Remus was looking at him a little suspiciously so James was relieved when Peter asked, "What happened? Did the medicine make it worse?"

"I don't th—think so."

James wanted to laugh. Did Remus think they were that stupid?! Did he think they were blind?!

"Are you getting sick too?" Sirius asked and of course Remus denied it. "You don’t look too well. You look pretty awful, no offense."

"I'm fine." Remus was shutting them out, as always. Normally James dismissed this because he felt Remus was entitled to his privacy regarding his medical issues but this time it grated on him. He glanced at Sirius then back at Remus, wondering what on earth he could have. If his mother _wasn't_ sick then _he_ was getting sick all the time! He was sick pretty much every month! What could possibly do that? Well, whether his mother was or wasn't didn't change the fact Remus was obviously ill now.

On the twenty-second, just as Sirius somehow predicted.

"Yeah, you look super sick," Peter said and Remus's face pinched up.

"You look like you should go to a healer too," James said.

Sirius started to say something but that proved to be too much, and the tiny boy exploded. "I'm _fine_!" James, Sirius, and Peter all jerked back, staring wide-eyed at Remus who began panting slightly, drooping now. "S—sorry, I'm just… really worried about my mum," he whispered, shrinking down in his seat, obviously trying to disappear.

That ended the conversation. James went back to eating, trying his best not to continually give Remus glances. _What is it_? He bent his head in low, shoveling his breakfast into his mouth. _What is wrong_?

*

James felt more miserable each passing hour. Every time he looked at Remus he just saw his grandfather in his last days. Thin, drawn, shaky, looking like his life was slowly easing its way out of his body. Remus... looked... horrifyingly similar. James kept resisting the urge to grab him and literally force him to see Madame Pomfrey. He just seemed to get worse and worse as the day drew on, sleeping through lunch _and_ their free period after lunch. He could hardly walk to History, and in Transfiguration was barely able to perform a simple spell.

He looked ready to—

Well.

He looked bad.

After Transfiguration James decided to try to convince Remus to go see Pomfrey again. "What harm would it do?" he asked as they walked through the halls.

"I—want to get to my mother," Remus replied. He was messing with putting his Transfiguration book away, head bent a little so his hair covered some of his face. His hand was trembling as he worked the book in, and was so bad that it took him several tries to clasp the satchel shut.

"It will only take a few minutes, won't it?" Peter asked, eyes darting to James and back to Remus. Sirius was walking along, hands in his pockets, not as wildly concerned as the other two. James clenched his teeth, wishing Sirius would do something more. _Say what he has_! Maybe if Remus knew Sirius knew he wouldn't try to do idiotic crap like this, pushing himself...

"I d-d-don't want to!" Remus said, studiously watching his shoes instead of his friends as they walked. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," James said. "You don't look fine."

Remus glared at James through his fringe. "I _feel_ fine."

"You're not though," James said. He glanced past Remus at Sirius who shrugged. "You're not—

Remus snapped for the second time that day. "I am FINE! Stop telling me how I must feel because I _know_ how I feel, and I am not SICK!"

"You look ready to collapse at any second!" James retorted.

To his surprise Remus continued arguing, not backing down at all. "I don’t give a flying jarvey how I look," he growled out, eyes flashing with anger. "I know how I feel and it isn't _sick_!"

James grit his teeth, about to argue right back but Peter spoke up before he could. "So… are we not supposed to be concerned about you?"

Remus looked like he was trying to reign in a temper. James knew Remus sometimes had a fiery little temper but usually he was just sweet and went along with the others. Oh, he lectured, rolled his eyes, made sarcastic comments, but to see him like this was a little nerve-wracking to James, especially since it was over his _health_. He wanted to echo Peter's words. Did Remus not want them to be concerned about him?

"I… appreciate the concern," he finally said, voice shaking, "I really do. It's just frustrating being told how other people think I'm doing, especially when I’ve clearly communicated I feel perfectly fine."

 _He's so stubborn_ , James thought grouchily. He looked at Remus's face then saw his grandfather's face. His grandfather, laying in bed, previously wrinkly, loose skin pulled tight against his skull, eyes sunken in. He could see Henry's dry, cracked lips trying to say _James_. Saw his grandfather's claw hand reaching for him. Then he could see Remus laying on a bed, skin drawn back, claw hand reaching as he tried to say _James_.

Was... Remus...?

He was jolted back to reality by Sirius hauling a squawking Remus off. James and Peter exchanged looks then followed, unsure what was going on. Then James knew what Sirius intended as they approached a bathroom. Sirius pushed him in front of one of the mirrors and James saw Remus visibly flinch at the sight of his own face. Except he didn't look surprised. He had expected to look this awful, which meant he was feeling awful. A fresh wave of irritation crashed through James.

"Again," Remus said, turning away, "I don't care how I look. I'm _fine_. Why can't you just listen to me?"

"Well, excuse me for being worried!" James grumbled. He'd be worried if it were Sirius or Peter! Why was Remus being like this?

"Why can't you just believe me?!" Remus demanded. James was _dumbfounded_ by that remark and all he could do was point at the mirror. Remus pressed his lips thin. "Merlin. I am fine, I do not feel sick at all. My _mum_ is sick, not me."

Sirius finally spoke up. "You can be sick at the same time your mum is."

James raised an eyebrow. Sirius had been the one to imply Remus's mother wasn't sick then he goes and says that? He swiveled his head to Remus, wondering what his response would be. Which was of course, more denials, agreeing he and his mother could be sick at the same time, but he wanted to drop the whole conversation. Remus's eyes got big and pleading, looking a lot like a little puppy.

A _sic_ _k_ little puppy.

"Could you at least go see Pomfrey before you leave?" James asked, wondering why Remus was so determined to not go, so determined to insist he wasn't sick. He had to be sick. Nobody could look like that and not be sick! Well, maybe they could... but not Remus. He looked the same as he did whenever he said he was sick—no, worse. He looked worse than he usually did.

He thought Remus might be giving in.

Hoped.

Because he looked so awful.

Looked like he was—

"Please?"

Remus stared at him for a second then narrowed his eyes. "Why?" he asked hotly. "To ease _your_ minds since you don’t believe _me_?" Despite his pale face, his cheeks grew a little pink. "No. I’m not sick."

The flush worried James and he put his hand against Remus's forehead. "You might have a fever—"

Remus smacked James's hand away, eyes going huge, and James knew he had made a mistake. "Just DROP IT!" His breathing became raggedy and he sounded panicked. " _Please_ ," he added, much as James just did.

James held his hand to his chest. Remus's forceful removal had hurt James's hand more than he expected. It kinda felt like something a lot more solid than a tiny sick boy's tiny hand hit him. And despite the 'please', the look in Remus's eyes was definitely a mixture of fear and anger. He was even more flushed, and looked ready to fall to the floor.

Or worse.

"Right."

James was trying his best not to get angry but he lost it now. He was mad at Sirius for bringing this whole thing up acting like he knew what was going on, and _very_ mad at Remus for just... pushing them away! And pushing, and pushing! He understood wanting privacy, he did. But he couldn't help but wonder why Remus kept so much of his barrier up even after they became friends. Why he needed so bad to _lie_ so much. Like that stupid cure. James knew damn _well_ that was a lie, it was one of the flimsiest things he ever heard in his life! Remus was using that as a cover for something, or a distraction.

Times like this he wondered if Remus even _wanted_ to be friends with them or if he was just... going along for a ride.

"I'll just not be at all alarmed over the fact you look like you're so sick," James said, trying not to sound too angered, knowing he was coming across that way anyway. "It's not my business, is it?"

Remus's expression softened slightly. "James—"

James ignored him, wanting to be heard, wanting to throw this at Remus. Wanting Remus to know just what was going on from their side of things. "Not like friends aren't suppose to _care_ about each other. I mean, if I looked as bad off as you do—"

Remus wasn't going to let him finish. "You don’t, though! Okay?" Remus took a step back, eyes glistening; he was going to cry. "None of you know what I’m going through!" He wasn't stammering but he was obviously trying not to stumble with his words. "You just don't _get it_!" James wanted to say, _then explain it to us_ , but Remus kept going. "I'm _glad_ you care about me enough to worry but you need to bloody take into account what I am SAYING! My illness is my business. Not yours. _Any_ of yours." Remus shot these last words towards Sirius. Then continued with, "I don't care if I look like I’m on death's door—"

_Henry, laying in his bed, fading out of this world, bony hand reaching towards James. Henry's last word, whispering James's name._

"—about to drop dead—"

_Fleamont holding his father's other hand with both of his. Henry's hand dropping down, limp. A rattling breath escaping his mouth as he died._

"—it’s my affair!"

James hadn't really been close to anyone who had died before his grandfather. That was the first time death really touched on him. And now Remus stood there looking like—looking like he might—... Having _something_ that pulled him into a terrifying state of bad health practically every month. Sirius telling James he knew what Remus had but unable to say what because—

 _He's dying_.

James turned and stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He began running immediately, running from Remus, running from the images of his dead grandfather.

 _No_.

He let out a gasp and then pumped his legs harder. A tear dripped down onto his cheek and he furiously wiped it away.

"James!" He ducked down a side corridor then realized it was Peter coming after him. "Jaaaaames!" James took in a deep breath, wiping his face once more, then stepped back out, nearly running into Peter. "Oh, there you are," Pete said. "You all right?"

"No," he said without even meaning to. "Are you?"

"Um—"

"I mean, you heard all that, right?" James waved his hand towards the direction of the bathroom. "He doesn't trust us."

Pete's eyes got huge. "What? No. I don't think that's what he meant. Remus—you know him, he's a really... private person."

James frowned at those words. "You're right," he said slowly, thoughts whirling madly in his head. "He is." He stepped back, taking his glasses off so he could rub at the lens. They weren't dirty but he needed to think and this helped. "Pete... your parents are named, um, Susan and... Cuthbert, right?"

"Huh?!" Peter looked at him as if he were crazy. "Yeah? What's that—"

"And Sirius's parents are Walburga and Orion..."

"Yeah."

"What are Remus's parents' names?"

Pete opened his mouth to answer then slowly closed it. "Um." James raised his eyebrows, waiting. "Um. I—I don't know."

"Me either. Where does Sirius live?'

"London."

"And you've been to my house, and you live in kinda near Wakefield."

"Uh-huh."

James cocked his head. "Where does Remus live?"

Peter smiled. "Wales."

"Yeah. Where in Wales?"

"Um."

"Wales is a pretty big place."

Peter scrunched his face up. "Um, he lives near, um... I—I don't know."

James sighed and put his glasses back on. "Neither do I. Have you ever even seen his parents?" Peter shook his head. "I've only ever seen his mother _once_ and she acted as if we breached some sort of etiquette by saying hello!" He could still remember pulling his parents over to Remus and the small, nervous woman hugging him. How her smile faded as soon as James introduced himself, how her face got pinched when Euphemia Potter shook her hand. James had wondered at the time if Mrs. Lupin was a little racist, getting all tense because of interacting with an Indian woman, but now... he wasn't so sure.

"James, what are you getting at?" Peter whined, shifting from foot to foot, getting upset over all of this.

"Remus isn't just keeping his illness from us, he's keeping a _lot_ from us. He never talks much about himself, or his past. I mean, we know he didn't have friends before school but... I mean... okay, not knowing his parents' name isn't the hugest of things but I don't even know where he might _live_! He hardly talked about anything he was really doing this summer, besides homework and that trip to the beach he took. He's... really secretive..." He folded his arms and hunched his shoulders forward. "D'you think he even really wants to be friends?"

"James!" Peter looked absolutely appalled. "Don't say things like that! Of course he wants to be friends. He just... has a harder time than the rest of us. I mean, you know how he was last year."

"Yeah, a year, a year of friendship and we don't really know a whole lot about him," James grumbled.

"We know plenty. His birthday is March tenth and—and he loves chocolate and—"

"Okay." James turned away from him. "We know some but not a ton and... I dunno it just feels like he's keeping a lot from us."

"You just want to know what he has. Like Sirius."

James opened his mouth to say, _Sirius does know_ , then closed his mouth. "I dunno. I just wish he'd stop pushing us away. It's like he doesn't want us to care about him. He just shuts us out and..."

 _And it hurts_.

He wasn't stupid enough to think his friends would share everything with him. Even what Sirius told him was select. But the way Remus acted, it was different.

"And never mind," he said raking his fingers through his hair. "I don't want to talk about it. Let's go do something." He walked off without looking back, knowing Peter would be following him. He paused so Pete could catch up and flung his arm across Pete's shoulder, pushing aside his irritation with Remus for the time being.

*

_Henry's coffin was open but as James approached it he still couldn't see Henry's face. "Grandpa?" he asked, going closer. The coffin suddenly looked too small. "Grandpa?" He reached the coffin and looked in. It wasn't his grandfather but Remus, dead. James reached in. "No. Remy, no!"_

_Suddenly Remus's eyes opened but they were white, as if he were still dead. His arm jerked and he grabbed James's hand, and began pulling him into the coffin which was no longer on display in the Potter's living room but in a grave. Dirt began raining down around them._

James woke up with a gasp. His blanket was wrapped around his legs from where he had been thrashing. He wiped his slightly sweaty face off then got out of bed, staggering to the bathroom to splash cold water. When he returned to the dorm Sirius was sitting up in James's bed. James climbed back in, and Sirius shut the curtains.

"Are you mad at him?" Sirius asked.

"That's what you want to ask?" James hissed out, yanking at the blankets to straighten them out. "Not, 'hey James you all right'? No it's Remus, it's always Remus."

"James—"

"If that's what you want to talk about go wake Peter up."

Sirius groaned as James flopped down, curling up, pulling the blanket up over his head. "James, stop being a jerk. You're my best friend." He took the blanket and pulled it down so James's head was exposed.

"What does he have?" he asked and when Sirius remained silent he sat up to face him. "What does he have? You said you know, you said—you said he'd be sick today and he is."

Sirius averted his gaze, or at least James thought he did; it was hard to tell in the dark and without his glasses. "I don't think I should tell you right now."

"Of course—"

"Not while you're _mad_ at him!" Sirius snapped. He looked at the curtains then bent in even closer, dropping his voice. "I will tell you. I promise I will. But I don't want to do it right now."

"What, you think I'll go telling people?"

Sirius grunted. " _No_! You might be a jerk but you're not evil. I trust you. But I want to make sure you and Remus trust each other again before I tell you."

James glowered at him then lay back down. "Remus doesn't trust us, that's the thing."

"James—"

"He doesn't. I don't know if he even wants to be our friend."

He felt Sirius's hand on his shoulder. "He does," Sirius said. "He's just... going through... a lot of things right now. It—it will... make sense when... I explain things..."

"But you won't now."

Sirius sighed and lay down next to James. "No." James huffed, but didn't say anything else. "Want me to go to my bed?"

James thought about that for a second or two. "You can stay here, if you want." He opted not to tell Sirius he'd _prefer_ it if Sirius stayed in his bed. Sirius rarely purposely shared a bed with James.

Sirius adjusted his position then tugged the blanket until it covered him too. "G'nite, Jimmy."

"Night." He into the darkness, listening as Sirius's breathing started slowing. His nightmare played over again, and he shuddered, clamping his mouth tight, gritting his teeth to try to push the visuals of a dead Remus out of his brain. It didn't work. He squeezed his eyes shut and then slowly exhaled. He was pretty sure Sirius was almost asleep but he couldn't help but whisper, "Is he dying?"

"Whuh was dat?" Sirius mumbled.

James pressed his face into his pillow. "Nothing."

He lay there, trying to go to sleep but everything kept buzzing around his head. Remus's illness, James's nightmare, Henry's passing... the possibility that Remus didn't even want to be friends at all.

 _Fine_ , he thought as he rolled over, facing Sirius. _If Remus doesn't want us to care then I won't care._

He knew it wasn't true.

Knew he wouldn't stop caring about Remus.

But the only two routes he could see were either Remus didn't want to be friends, or Remus was dying, and they were both so overwhelmingly painful that all James wanted to do was shut everything out.

Shut it out, just like Remus shut everyone out.

James let out a shaky breath and rubbed his damp face against his pillow before trying to get to sleep.


	2. A Mother's Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used google translation for the Welsh so I know it's probably not right. The first one is supposed to say "My little prince" or something similar, and the second is supposed to be "Come back to me". This chapter takes place long before all the other chapters except it does cover what happens in Shifting Lines Book Two Chapter One. I had no intention of writing this but randomly got inspired yesterday and wrote this instead of working on the main story oops. Also there is a very brief line of Hope and Lyall beginning to get intimate but it only lasts like two sentences and doesn't go anywhere.

_But I know that I can never cry your tears_   
_But I would_   
_If I could_   
_Yes I would_

_\- If I Could, Barbara Streisand_

*

His first word was 'Mama'.

Hope could remember that day clearly. He was sitting in his high chair, banging a spoon against the plastic tray. She turned around to give him a handful of dry cereal and he looked up at her with those remarkable golden-amber eyes and went, "Mama."

She had dropped the cereal, sure she was imagining it. He had been babbling for a while now but he had looked _right at her_! "Remus?" she asked, reaching out to touch his tawny curls.

"Mama," he said again then shoved the spoon in his mouth, drool oozing down onto his bib.

Remus took his first steps a few weeks later. Lyall was holding his chubby hands, and Remus kept crying whenever Lyall tried to pull him gently forward, falling down onto his padded bum. Hope leaned forward on the couch, expressing concern he was too young. Lyall just laughed and helped Remus back up onto his feet.

"Nonsense," Lyall said. "Come on, Remus!" He tugged lightly and Remus swayed. "Come on!" Remus began bouncing, keeping his feet firmly on the floor. "Follow Daddy! See?" Lyall took one step. Remus eyed him suspiciously then fell down again, face scrunching up. "You can do it!"

"He's too young," Hope said as Lyall got him back onto his feet. She chewed at her nails, hating to see her miracle baby crying.

Before Lyall, before magic, she couldn't have babies. One of the few things she always wanted in life. Even with the aid of magic it had been an extremely rough pregnancy that tore her up, and now she definitely couldn't ever have anymore kids. Remus was her one and only, but he was absolutely perfect so that was okay.

"Follow Daddy." Lyall tugged again and this time Remus swayed forward and lifted one tiny foot in the air. Hope held her breath, watching with huge eyes as his foot moved forward, and landed softly on the blanket ahead of him.

Then he began crying as Hope shrieked for joy, clapping her hands. She swooped in, picking him up high into the air. "That's my boy!" she squealed, kissing his tears away. "My good boy!"

Hope tried to capture every moment as he grew. His first teeth, his first haircut, crawling, walking; she captured his curiosity with the world around him. One of the earliest words he learned was 'dat?'.

"Dat?" Remus asked, reaching out of his stroller to point during their walks.

"That's a shrub."

"Dat?"

"Tree."

"Dat? Dat?"

"That's a car. It's Muggle."

He did it at home, wanting to know everything. Once he got a little older he'd pull books off the shelves and drag them to her. "What dis?" he'd ask, opening the book to point at a picture. "What dat?" Sometimes it drove Hope absolutely bonkers. She'd be trying to cook dinner and he'd tug at her skirt, holding a book up. "Dis! Dis!"

Lyall would just laugh when she complained. "He's precocious," he said, nuzzling against her late at night. "He's smart. Like his mother."

Hope looked up into Lyall's face. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm not as smart as you."

"You are." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then kissed the tip of her nose. "You are absolutely _brilliant_."

He pulled her down under the covers, hot hands sliding across her body. Hope gasped, pressing against her husband, a tiny fear in the back of her head that because she couldn't give him another child he'd start to hate her body as much as she hated it. But he never seemed bored of her. He pulled up her nightgown, hand trailing across her thigh, his stubbly chin scratching against her chest. Then suddenly there was the feeling of something... or someone... climbing up into bed.

Hope pushed the blankets down, blushing fiercely as Remus knelt at the end of the bed, book in hand, head tilted. "Read dis," he said, holding the book out. "Peas," he added, remembering Manners.

Hope was embarrassed but Lyall laughed, getting out of bed completely starkers. "Remus, come on, you've had plenty of stories tonight."

"NO!" Remus cried as Lyall scooped him up. "Read! Read!"

"Mummy and daddy want adult time."

"Nooooo!"

"It's okay!" Hope said as Remus struggled and thrashed in Lyall's arm. She sat upright, holding her arms out. Remus put his arms out towards her, flopping out of Lyall's hold and onto the bed. He scrambled across the covers and dove into her embrace. "I'll read him another story."

Lyall put his hands on his hips, sighing, but not arguing. He knew by now it was pointless to argue when it came to their son.

Every time Remus was upset, Hope got upset. Every time Remus hurt, Hope hurt. When he fell down and scraped his knee Hope could feel her own knee stinging. When he fell off the couch and banged his head, Hope had a headache for hours. When he accidentally touched the hot stove and screamed bloody murder, her own fingers burned as she ran him into the bathroom, desperately searching through Lyall's potions for a burn healing potion.

"Thank the Lord for magic," she whispered, rubbing the healing salve on his reddened fingers. Remus sniffled and once the red faded she brought his little baby hand to her mouth, kissing. "Fy tywysog bach."

She was eternally grateful for magic, even if she didn't understand it. It never ceased to amaze her to see things just _happen_ when Lyall waved his wand. And the fact Remus could do magic too was... the most incredible feeling in the entire universe. He had been doing accidental magic since pretty much the get go. They constantly found things floating towards him. At first toys, but as he got older it'd be books.

One time she walked into the living room to find the giant encyclopedia floating above his head. She gave into her instinct to scream and she dove. The scream broke Remus's concentration and the book fell. Hope reached him first, and the giant book struck her shoulder instead of her baby. She gave a cry of pain and then rolled over, pulling Remus into her arms.

"You're okay," she whispered, stroking his hair which no longer held the same curls as it did before that first haircut; now it was more or less straight, but thick. So thick and fluffy. "You're okay."

She had pain in her shoulder for the rest of the day but mostly forgot about it until she undressed for bed and Lyall gasped at the sight of the enormous purple bruise. He quickly fetched her some bruise balm, rubbing it into her skin, kissing at her neck.

"Your son did this," she teased.

"He's a menace," Lyall growled, biting at her earlobe.

Hope giggled and pushed him away. "Like his father."

Lyall growled again and yanked Hope into bed.

Sometimes Hope wondered how Lyall felt. If he was as in love with their baby as she was. Did he feel the same breathlessness whenever he looked into those strange eyes? Did he want to cry with pride when Remus achieved milestones? Did Remus give Lyall life? She thought, sometimes, Lyall felt that way. But other times she thought he could _never_ feel that way. He didn't carry Remus inside of him for nine months, didn't destroy his body giving birth.

Nobody could ever love Remus as much as Hope loved him.

"Mommy, what this?" Remus asked, squinting at the book.

Hope studied the caption carefully. "That's called a kelpie. It's a water demon."

Remus flipped through the pages. "Fish!"

"That's called a ramora. It's in India."

"What Ninia?"

"India, it's a country, and it's far away."

"Who this?"

"Um, that's a troll. They're big. Bigger than Daddy."

"Big?"

"Very big."

"Doggie!"

"No, that's a werewolf, they're bad."

"Bad doggie?"

"Bad doggie."

Hope didn't like magical creatures at all. They made her nervous. They looked so unnatural! Lyall wanted to get Remus a pet puffskein which was just this ball of fur, but Hope refused. They had her cat—a perfectly good non-magic cat—thank you very much. Remus and the family cat got along well enough. Though Remus seemed to get along a lot more with Lyall's owl, which made Hope slightly jealous. The fact Remus preferred Lyall's pet to hers. It was petty and she knew it, but she couldn't help but feel that way.

She had been nervous about Arthur being around Remus however the owl proved to be incredibly gentle. He'd allow Remus to clumsily pet him, squawking occasionally when Remus accidentally tugged at the feathers. When Remus got a little older and more understanding Arthur would even perch on him which gave Hope heart palpitations, seeing those claws curled around his little shoulder.

"Mommy?" Remus climbed into her lap and opened up a book. "Owl," he said and pointed to the page. She looked down expecting a picture, then was startled that there wasn't any picture at all. His beautiful little fingertip was pointing at the word 'owl'.

"Yes," she said, trying not to cry. "Remus, you can _read_!"

He started recognizing words at such a young age, piecing them together as he looked through his favorite books. He recognized the words in other books. He recognized letters and sounded new words out. Hope and Lyall were astounded, and Lyall started bragging to his co-workers about his genius son.

Hope knew a little bit about the Ministry of Magic. She had been there twice. Once when they had to register their marriage, and once when there was a dinner party. Hope was completely out of her element and spent the entire night clinging to his arm, terrified of someone talking to her. There were a lot of dirty looks sent her way and she knew a great deal of that was due to her being a Muggle.

"What's this?"

"It's a flower," she said hesitantly, but Remus was no longer satisfied with generic answers.

" _No_!" Remus frowned. "What _this_!" He crouched down, pointing. His beautiful little face scrunched up as he sorted out how to get what he wanted. "What flower _name_?"

She got out Lyall's books and began telling him about the plants, learning things herself in the process (and rather enjoying it). Some of them were common in the Muggle world, some of them she had never heard of before. Remus listened carefully, repeating back in his toddler talk some of the important things, as if he were going to be tested on this later.

Remus loved showing his dad what he learned. Often when Lyall came home, Remus would run over and take his hand. "Daddy!" He got out the books, shoving through the pages so he could share his newfound knowledge. His thirst was never quenched, and Lyall began bringing home new books full of beautiful pictures so Remus could learn more about the world.

"Daddy!" Remus ran over, struggling to hold up a book. "Read?"

"Not right now, Remus," Lyall sighed, throwing his hat onto the rack.

" _Daddy_! Read this! Please?"

"I said not _now_!" Lyall snapped, and Remus dropped the book, recoiling back, whimpering slightly.

Hope realized only then how upset Lyall looked, and hurried over to pick Remus up. Lyall obviously had had a stressful day and couldn't handle his son's endless energy and chatter at the moment, which she could understand. Remus was _beyond_ exhausting. If she thought Remus was tiring at two, it was nothing compared to now. Now he could work out how to ask questions, and the simple stories she always assumed she'd be reading her child at this age sometimes didn't do it. He just wanted... _more_. Hope wondered if anyone was as curious as Remus was.

"Shit day," Lyall moaned that evening after Remus was put to bed. "I don't get how _stupid_ people can be!"

"What happened?" she asked, massaging his shoulders.

"A bunch of werewolves were caught, and there was this Muggle tramp with them but—but I knew it's a werewolf too. I could tell. It was so obvious. It was questioned over the death of two children..."

Hope pressed her lips together, looking down, hands shaking now. "Those poor children. How old were they?"

Lyall twisted around and put his arms around her, kissing her cheek. "I'm sorry, my darling, I shouldn't have said anything."

Hope shook her head. "What happened?"

"Well... the committee decided it was just a Muggle tramp and let it go." Lyall's face got tight and dark. "Fucking monster. They just let it go."

"Oh, Lyall."

"They tried to erase its memory but it escaped." Lyall let out a short laugh. "What Muggle tramp does that? No, it was a werewolf."

There was something he wasn't saying. Hope put a hand against his. "What else happened?"

Lyall sighed and bent forehead, rubbing his forehead. "I lost my temper and yelled at the others. I'm just so sick of these creatures being let go! Like they're... they're actual people! They're not!"

Hope squeezed his hand. "No, they're not," she agreed.

"They all deserve nothing more than execution. What's the point in letting something like that live on this planet?"

Hope curled up against him, running her thumb across the back of his hand. "I'm so sorry, love."

Lyall pressed his mouth against her hair. "The worst part is there was something different about this one. I felt... like... it wanted to just... I don't know, it seemed even more evil than most werewolves. And it _looked_ at me when I argued, as if it could see into me."

Hope shivered at that thought, then pushed it out of her head. She didn't want to think about things like that. She had more important things to deal with, like the fact with Remus reading anything he could get his hands on meant he could read Lyall's spellbooks. Soon after she found him sitting on the floor trying to read out a spell. She ran over, snatching the book from his hands. She doubted it would do anything if he spoke the spell out loud but it still scared her.

"You're not supposed to read Daddy's books," she said, finding another book for him to read.

"I want to," he argued.

"You're not allowed."

"Why not?"

"It's... dangerous."

Remus looked down at the book she put in his lap. "Why?" he asked.

"Because—because it just is," she sighed. "You can't read them."

Remus pursed his lips together, eyes narrowing a bit. "Yes I can. I know the words."

"I—I know you can." Hope felt her patience wearing thin. He was a baby! He wasn't supposed to understand logic like this! Then she realized with despair he was four years old. Not a baby anymore. Still, it was irritating he could argue _logic_ at this age. Or maybe all children were like that. "You know what the words say. But you're not _allowed_ to read them."

She thought that would be that but Remus just widened his eyes. "Why not?"

Hope went to the other room and screamed into a cushion. Once that was taken care of she went back into the living room only to see Remus at the bookshelf again, the spellbook open in his lap, finger tracing along the spell as he sounded it out, other hand pointing towards the side table.

Lyall came home to find all his spellbooks off the shelves and when he asked about them Hope took him to their bedroom, pointing to the top of the wardrobe. Lyall looked at the stacks of books, lips quivering. "Bad day?" he asked.

"Your son tried to turn a lamp into a duck."

Lyall laughed so hard he almost fell over. "Merlin's beard! He's going to destroy Hogwarts."

Hope gave him a gentle push. "Stop! It's not funny! I have no idea how to control him!" Then his words sank into her brain. "Does he really have to go to Hogwarts? It's so far away."

Lyall wiped a few tears away. "We could do Beauxbatons."

"No!" she cried out. "No. Can't he learn at home? Can't you teach him?"

Lyall cupped her face and kissed her gently on the lips. "He needs to go to school. I'd prefer Hogwarts. By the time he starts I think Albus Dumbledore will be Headmaster, and he's one of the most talented, powerful wizards in the world."

Hope sighed, dreading the day her baby would be wrenched from her arms and thrown to the harsh Scottish highlands. It wasn't fair.

As summer turned to autumn, Hope thought she might lose her mind. Remus was attempting more and more magic, determined to find the books he wasn't allowed to read, and began attempting things he shouldn't do. He got into Lyall's potion store and was dumping ingredients together one day and Hope nearly sobbed in fear, wondering if he was making some sort of poison. Another day he ran around the yard, waving a stick, insisting it was his wand.

"Mommy look, I do magic!" he said and pointed the stick at a flowerpot. The budding flower burst into full bloom. "Like Daddy!"

"I don't know how to handle him!" Hope cried that night in bed. Lyall rubbed her back gently, kissing her shoulder. "I don't have magic! What if he decides to float Jane to the roof?!" She could picture her beloved cat stuck on the roof, and then moaned out, bending forward, covering her face. "How do others do it? Muggle parents of magic kids?"

Two days later Lyall brought a family home. The man was a co-worker of his, the woman his Muggle wife, and their child a half-and-half. Hope was a little unsure but at first things went fine until Mr. Craft realized how much more advanced Remus was than Raven. Plus the two kids didn't get along. They tugged a book back and forth until Raven jerked it out of Remus's hands and Remus fell back, giving a cry of surprise then he glared. The book exploded in Raven's hands, and Raven screamed.

The Crafts took their son and hurriedly left. Hope was humiliated and angry, but Lyall seemed more amused. "Rory's always bragging his kid's better than mine anyway," he said, picking Remus up. "I am sorry it didn't go better. I was hoping you two could compare notes."

"I don't think there's anyone that can compare to Remus," Hope said.

Lyall kissed Remus's head. "No, you're certainly right about that."

Raven wasn't the first kid they tried to socialize Remus with, of course. There were other magical kids in the area. But none of them seemed to really click with Remus. He never asked to play with them, even though when the parents made a play date they would play together. Lyall began suggesting they do more with other people, get Remus 'friends'. Spend time outside the house. Hope just smiled and shrugged. She was happy with Remus staying home with her all the time. She crept into his bedroom that night and knelt next to his Big Boy Bed, stroking his hair, singing quietly.

She loved singing to him.

She sang anything and everything... well, anything and everything Muggle. She especially loved Frank Sinatra.

"Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars! Let me see what spring is like, on Jupiter or Mars!" Hope and Remus were dancing around the living room as the album played. "In other words, hold my hand. In other words, baby, kiss me!" She bent down so Remus could give her a sticky, grape juice kiss. She laughed and picked him up, heavy and solid in her arms. "Fill my heart with song, let me sing forever more! You are all I long for, all I worship and adore!" She nuzzled and kissed him while he squealed. She spun him around and dipped him, flipping him upside down, his shirt riding up as she blew raspberries on his exposed belly.

The door swung open violently and slammed shut. Hope looked up in worry at her husband who was pale.

"Turn that damn song off," he growled then pointed his wand to pull the needle up from a distance.

"Daddy, bad word," Remus said as Hope deposited him on the ground.

Lyall gave him a shaky smile. "You're right. Daddy's sorry."

Lyall refused to talk about the problem until long after Remus had his bath and was put into bed.

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamt I held you in my arms. When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken… and I hung my head and cried. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey, you'll never know, dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away," she sang gently.

"Can you sing it all, Mommy?" Remus asked.

She thought of the next lines. Of leaving and loving another. She wondered if it was possible to die of love, die of knowing one day she wouldn't be the most important woman in his life. He would be an adult with a wife of his own, a woman that would take over his world. "That’s the important part, the rest doesn't matter," Hope said, hating the fictional, faceless woman with burning jealousy as if she were coming to take Remus from her now. "Goodnight, baby. No arguing, now."

"Okay," Remus said in a resolved tone, snuggling that raggedy stuffed dog. "Night night, Mommy."

She kissed him then went downstairs, wondering if Lyall's mother felt the same way. She didn't know Jeanne-Marie very well but her mother-in-law intimidated her to no end. Jeanne-Marie often spoke French around Hope, purposely excluding her, and gave her angry stares. It had always hurt Hope however now she thought she could understand. Maybe one day she'd be speaking Welsh around the future Mrs. Remus Lupin and giving angry stares.

Lyall was slumped at the dining room table, and Hope was about to bring up Remus's future when she noticed the paper in front of him. "What is it?" she asked.

Lyall looked up, eyes weary. "Last night... there were..." He pushed the paper towards her. It was open to a small article warning the residents of Hollyhock Hollow about rumors of a werewolf appearing the previous night, the first night of the full moon that month. "I think it's the one that killed the two Muggle children."

Hope sat down hard in a chair, fear seizing her heart. "Oh Lyall...!"

"It'll be fine," he promised.

"Fine? If he's—I mean, you did say those things, didn't you?" She had found out Lyall had exploded in front of the werewolf, calling them all evil, soulless beings, insisting death was the only way to deal with them. "What if—"

"It'll be fine!" Lyall snapped loudly, hand slamming down on the table. Hope recoiled, giving a slight gasp.

He had killed two children, what if he came after Remus? Lyall insisted werewolves were stupid, but what if they weren't? What if this one wanted to get back at Lyall?

They began arguing, voices becoming louder as Lyall grew angrier and angrier, face getting red.

"You said he's different!" Hope cried out. "What if he wants revenge for—"

"It! Not he!" Lyall snarled. Then his expression softened. "If it wanted revenge, it could have done so last month. Besides, what can it do? If it tries to attack the house, I'll kill it."

"Lyall..."

Hope moved over, sliding into his lap and wrapping her arms around him. Lyall pressed his face against her. "You don't need to be scared," he promised, caressing her back.

Hope tucked her head down against his, tightening her hold. "You've talked so much about them. It's just frightening."

"I know, darling." He pressed his lips against her forearm, kissing up to her inner elbow. Then he looked up at her. "I'll protect you. It's just a bad-tempered dog, that's all. Soon it'll be found and put down."

"Just a bad-tempered dog," she echoed.

"That's right."

There was a faint thump outside the house and Hope froze. "Wh—what was that?" she asked.

"Nothing."

She got out of his lap, head cocked to one side, trying to listen. "Are you sure?"

Lyall grabbed her hands. "Positive. You're just on edge right now. How about we go take a nice bubble bath together, that will relax you."

They went to the stairs, Hope only half paying attention to Lyall's nuzzling. Something was wrong. "Remus," she breathed out.

"No, no," Lyall murmured, "not now. Now it's us."

"No, I—I think something is wrong..."

Then she heard him sobbing. It sounded faint and distant, but her body jerked as if it were right in her ear. She took off running with Lyall at her heels. "Remus?!" she gasped out, falling at the top of the stairs then tumbling into his room. She ran to his empty bed, hands desperately searching for him. All the hair on her body raised as he screamed. Her baby was screaming. Outside.

Lyall ran to the open window, why was the window open?! "Remus?! REMUS?!"

Hope covered her mouth as she heard her baby scream, "DAAADDDDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"No, no, no!" she sobbed as Lyall whipped his wand out, shooting spells. She ran over, grabbing at Lyall, trying to look outside.

"That’s right, Lupin! Watch!" someone shouted.

Then Remus's horrifying screams pitched higher and higher until he wasn't screaming anymore. Hope collapsed to her knees, clutching at Lyall's leg. "REMUS!" she sobbed out. "REMUS!"

"NOOO!" Lyall yelled then sent another spell out before jumping right out the window. Hope pushed herself up, grabbing the sill so she didn't pitch forward, calling for her baby, sobbing more.

Remus—her child, her son, her world, her life, her _baby_ —was dangling from the mouth of an enormous wolf.

Hope screamed, seeing the blood, seeing the monster biting into her child. She gave another wail then turned, running to the door, crashing down the stairs. _Nononononononono_! She wasn't aware of falling down the last few steps, of banging into the floor, of the pain. She pushed herself off, tears soaking her face and shirt. She propelled forward, knocking against things, head pounding. She couldn't hear him. Was he...?

She reached the kitchen door just as she saw Lyall running back to the house, Remus's body in his arms. She thought for one terrifying, heart-stopping second he was dead but then she realized he was crying.

He was alive.

Hope spun around, running to the bathroom, grabbing at all the potions blindly. She returned to the kitchen as Lyall set Remus on the table. His blood—his _blood_ —was everywhere. His skin was pale and grey, and there was a huge gaping bite in his arm, muscle glistening. Hope set the potions down, frantically searching for the right ones.

Lyall began pacing, Remus's blood dripping from his hands. "Won't work, it won't work."

Hope tried her hardest to stay calm. Remus needed her. She could faint later. "He's bleeding to _death_! We have to do something waiting for the Ministry to come!"

"Ministry?!" Lyall stared at her in shock. "We can't call the Ministry! Hope, he's been BITTEN!" He waved his hand at the mark on Remus's arm. "They'll just KILL HIM!"

Hope steeled herself at those words, wanting to turn around and slap Lyall though she knew he was right. "Then I'll take care of it!"

She had always thought about what she'd do if something really bad happened to Remus, and she never expected to be able to deal with it. She figured she'd collapse into a helpless ball of tears while Lyall took over the situation. But instead he was breaking down, and she had to take charge.

"It bit him, it _bit_ him!"

Remus was taking shallow breaths, his body twitching. His eyes were beginning to glaze over. Hope sucked in air, forcing the tears back as she worked. "Lyall, _move_!"

Lyall stepped back. "He's going to become one of them…"

His words were like ice in Hope's veins. Their baby was dying and that's all he could think about?! She poured a wound healing potion into her hand and began gently rubbing it against the bite. Remus jerked and then began crying out. His mouth moved but no words came out, just an agonizing howl of pain.

"Shh, baby, it's okay," Hope whispered, praying that these potions would work, that she—just a Muggle—would be able to heal this. Because she knew Lyall was right. If anyone got wind of this, Remus would probably just be—

Well.

That wasn't going to happen.

"He's gonna turn." Lyall was pacing again, running his bloodied hands through his hair, leaving streaks through the blond. "He's gonna become one…"

Remus whimpered, voice fading, eyes fluttering.

"You're scaring him," she accused, knocking over a bottle of potion as she reached for the bandages. It crashed to the floor, shattering, sending pale orange liquid splattering everywhere. She slid a little, fingers gripping the roll of cloth. She pressed gauze against the wound and Remus jerked again, but this time he didn't cry. That wasn't a good sign.

Lyall grabbed Hope's arm. "Hope, you _don't understand_! HE WAS BIT!"

Hope pushed him away so hard he stumbled and fell against the sink. "I KNOW HE WAS BIT I CAN SEE HE WAS BIT NOW SHUT UP, LYALL!"

Remus began crying again at her raised voice. Her knees buckles as relief washed through her that he had enough strength to cry.

"Shh, shh baby, it's okay," she said, wrapping the bandages around his arm. "It'll be okay." She began singing, the same song she had perhaps half an hour ago. Was that all? Ten, fifteen minutes since everything had shattered into a million pieces? "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you... please don't take my sunshine away..."

Remus's eyes closed and Hope curled forward, fingers against his chest. His heart was still beating. Weakly. "Please," she whispered, body trembling. "Please Lord, don't take him from me."

She grabbed a vial of strengthening potion and put a little dab in his mouth. Potion to reduce fever, potion to reduce pain.

"Don't you take him from me."

The bandages were soaked through with blood so she unwrapped them to put clean ones on. The wound hadn't healed at all.

"Don't you fucking take him from me!"

She grabbed the tiny vial of essence of dittany which she remembered Lyall saying was one of the most powerful restoratives in the magical world.

"Don't you _dare_."

She poured the liquid on, and Remus didn't even react as there was a sizzling sound.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TAKE MY BABY FROM ME YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Nothing was happening. Remus was fading in front of her. Her baby was dying.

She whirled around. "What do I do?!"

"Nothing," Lyall moaned, huddled on the floor, sobbing into his arms.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and began shaking him. "WHAT DO I DO?! THERE MUST BE SOMETHING! YOU TELL ME RIGHT NOW, LYALL LUPIN, OR SO HELP ME GOD!"

Lyall stared past her, at his dying son. "Silver," he whispered.

"What?"

"Powdered silver. With the dittany. Seals a werewolf bite."

Hope pulled back then ran to the potions cupboard, throwing expensive ingredients aside.

"Hope, if he lives—"

"Don't you fucking say that he is _going_ to live."

"—he'll be one of them."

Her fingers curled around the jar of powdered silver.

"If you do that, he'll become one," he croaked out and she hesitated. "He'll become a werewolf."

Hope turned to stare hard at Lyall, hating him with every fiber of her being. "I'd rather have a werewolf for a son than no son at all."

She had no idea what amount to use. How much or how little. She just scooped a handful of silver out and held it over his wound. She remembered when he said his first word. His golden eyes looking up at her as she held a handful of dry cereal.

 _Mama_ , he had said.

Hope clenched her teeth, and dumped the powdered silver onto the wound full of dittany.

Remus's scream tore through the air, his body convulsed, arms and legs flailing. Hope tried to hold him down, sticking her finger into his mouth, ignoring his tiny baby teeth tearing into her skin, the pain of his child jaw clenching down on her finger.

Silver smoke billowed everywhere and she heard Remus's heels hitting the table, his hands smacking the wood. Then he went still. Hope tried fanning the smoke away, panting heavily, ignoring the burning sensation from breathing in the smoke which finally wafted away, revealing Remus's body once more. The wound was healing, it was no longer open. However he was laying completely still, eyes closed.

Hope put another dab of the strengthening potion onto his tongue then pressed her face against his chest.

 _Please_.

Tears dripped onto his pajama shirt and she reached up, clutching at his tiny body.

"Please. Remus. Please. Please."

She gripped his pajamas, trying to quiet her breathing so she could hear better.

"Dewch yn ôl ataf."

Then faintly she could hear it. His heartbeat. It was getting stronger.

She pulled back, keeping her eyes on his face. He was still pale but didn't look like he was getting worse. Slowly she sat down, holding his hand. His heartbeat remained steady. She fought the urge to take him to a Muggle hospital, knowing there'd be questions. She knew it would get out to the Ministry, and they'd investigate, and then they'd kill Remus. She couldn't do anything and it was agony. Just pray that her clumsy attempts would work.

After an eternity his leg moved, and then his head tipped to one side.

His eyes slowly opened.

Hope stared.

"Mommy?"

Hope gasped and then pulled him into her arms, trying to be as careful as she could. Remus curled against her and she sank down to the floor, rocking back and forth. His fingers wrapped into her blouse, holding onto her as she sobbed.


	3. The Sorting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in Book One, Chapter Two. I wanted to write out how Peter's Sorting may have gone, and felt it was a wee bit too short to be its own, so I decided to show off a few other Sortings. Hope you like it!

_Now slip me snug about your ears,_   
_I've never yet been wrong,_   
_I'll have a look inside your mind_   
_And tell where you belong!_

\- _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

*

"Evans, Lily!"

Lily had been waiting for her name to be called but when it happened she felt startled. She moved away from the tiny, tawny-haired boy who must have been Muggleborn like her, as terrified as he seemed. She had leaned against him to try to give him some comfort.

"Good luck," she whispered to him then glanced back at Severus who was giving her his usual piercing stare. She walked forward, a little afraid, but mostly excited. Finally she'd be given her education, her new life. _Magic_.

She slid onto the stool, knees pressed together, trying not to grin like a goof. Just before the Hat slipped over her head her gaze met Severus's and she gave him a smile. She had no doubt whatsoever she'd in in Slytherin with him.

" _Well now, you're certainly a little Gryffindor_ ," a voice whispered in her ear.

Lily jumped slightly in surprise. She hadn't expected the Hat to talk to her! "No I'm not," she told the Hat, confused by this statement, not sure if everyone around her could hear her speaking.

" _They cannot hear_ you," the Hat said.

_You can hear my thoughts_?

" _Yes, and I know what you want."_

Sev hadn't told her about this! He just told her the Hat would be put on her head, and it would announce she belonged in Slytherin. She had been very nervous the entire train ride but he promised her over and over it was very quick, very simple. Just... Hat on head, and then boom. Slytherin.

Apparently not so simple.

_Then... you know I'm a Slytherin!_

" _Slytherin_!?" The Hat laughed at her, had the audacity to laugh! " _Oh, little flower, they would eat you alive in seconds then spit you out to feed you to the crows."_

She shook her head, feeling everything slipping away. Everything she had expected, had been told, was being yanked away like a cat toy on a string. _No, I'm a Slytherin!_

" _No. You're not. If I was forced to put you anywhere else,_ _you've certainly got the loving heart, loyalty, and kindness of a Hufflepuff, however there is no denying such a bright light of courage and nerve."_

Then before she could argue further she heard the Hat's voice shout loud enough for everyone to hear, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Lily sat, stunned. _What? No. NO!_ She couldn't be in Gryffindor! "No," she said, but then the Hat was removed from her head.

"Congratulations, my dear," Professor McGonagall said and gave her a gentle nudge towards the cheering table.

Lily stumbled, looking over her shoulder at Severus. He looked as shocked as she felt. _Gryffindor_? She sat down at the table, shaking now. _I can't be a Gryffindor_! It was a mistake! It had to be a mistake. The Hat never even let her argue—just threw her into the worst house without any hesitation!

She knew all about Gryffindor. The stupid house, the dunderheads, the bullies, the idiots who blindly barrelled their way through everything without a thought to anyone else. That Black kid was in Gryffindor, one of the ones who had insulted Severus on the train, so that just cemented what Severus had told her their entire friendship.

_I'm not stupid, or a bully! The Hat even said I was kind_! Lily clenched her fists to her sides, taking in deep breaths. Courage? Maybe some, but that wasn't—not enough to put her here. She wasn't a Gryffindor. She was a Slytherin. She was ambitious, and resourceful, and cunning. Sev told her countless times how much of a Slytherin she was. Whenever he talked about Hogwarts it was clear they were going to stay together, in Slytherin. He never once thought she'd be anywhere else, so she never thought so either.

_Ravenclaw is full of stuck-up know-it-alls who only care about what's in a book and don't think of anything beyond their limited views,_ he had explained, _and Hufflepuffs are all dumb as rocks, that's the house you're put in if you've got no talent at all. But Gryffindor? Gryffindors are the worst. Disgusting, smug, cocky, overbearing, condescending bullies, without a single original thought. Lions? More like muscled-up sheep._

She wasn't a sheep. She wasn't a Gryffindor!

This was all a big mistake. She could talk to someone later, maybe go to Professor McGonagall and tell her the Hat had been wrong. She had read _Hogwarts, A History_ , but couldn't remember anyone who had been placed in the wrong house, but she supposed it wasn't anything they'd ever mention. Surely the Hat had made a mistake before! Surely there had to be corrections! Naturally, they wouldn't advertise in the book that this happened... but it _had_ to have happened. In almost a thousand years of school, there _had_ to have been a few mis-Sortings that were simply... discreetly changed.

She'd talk to someone. The Deputy Headmistress, even though she was in charge of Gryffindor, she had to be fair, right?

Lily looked at Severus who kept his eyes on her, a frown on his pallid face. He looked as shocked as she felt. She frowned back and shrugged as if to say, what can you do? He'd feel better later. What a surprise he'd have when she showed up in the Slytherin part of the castle to tell him! And then... everything would be perfect.

Lily looked back up to the Sorting, impatient, wishing it would be over, that supper would be over so she could talk to someone, to fix this.

*

"Pettigrew, Peter?"

Peter took trembling steps towards the stool. He felt everyone staring at him, watching him, and it made him kinda sick. Why couldn't the Sorting be _private_? That'd be better. He sat down and held onto the Hat as it was placed on his head. His mum had told him what to expect but it was still super strange to hear a voice in his ear, knowing it came from the Hat.

" _Well, such an interesting little fella_."

Interesting? What did _that_ mean?

" _You have a remarkable amount of self-preservation and determination... and a desire to prove yourself, in your own way..."  
_

He hadn't expected the Hat to say this stuff. He just figured the Hat would place him in Hufflepuff. He wasn't much of a Hufflepuff, but he knew Hufflepuff also took in the rejects, which was what he was.

Peter held onto the Hat tighter, really bewildered. "Where am I going?"

The Hat was silent.

Maybe... maybe he didn't belong anywhere.

Maybe the Hat was silent because he didn't even belong to Hogwarts.

Maybe he broke the Hat.

" _Where do you feel you belong_?"

Peter blinked in the darkness, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Where did he _belong_? "Why are you asking me? I thought that was your job," he mumbled.

The Hat chuckled. " _Tell me."_

Where did he belong. Out of all the houses? He expected Hufflepuff but... "I—I'd like to be in Gryffindor," he said, thinking it was a long reach, that the Hat would just laugh at him.

Surprisingly, it did not, and actually murmured quietly the word 'Gryffindor' a few times. " _You admire courage, don't you?_ "

"Who wouldn't?" He wanted to be more courageous! He wanted to be brave! "Um, so where am I going?"

" _You might be a Slytherin_."

Peter's heart leapt into his throat. "No," he squeaked out. "Oh, please no. I—I'm not a Slytherin!"

" _I get the feeling you'd go quite far to save yourself, if backed in a corner_ ," the Hat said, almost sounding like a snake itself, hissing in his ear its little bout of poison.

"Th—that'd be bravery though," he said desperately. "Wouldn't it?"

" _You've got that need to show the world you're more than what people see, and you've shown yourself to be quite sneaky_."

Peter bit his lip now, thinking of all the times he had snuck out of his room to listen in to his parents' conversations. How many arguments he heard that were about him, and his magical ability—or rather, lack thereof. Even after he had finally started showing magical ability his father had still argued. It had frightened him, hearing his parents fighting over him! But of course his mother won, because no matter what his father thought he _did_ belong in the magical world.

" _However... there is no doubting how much you want to be a braver person. I don't always Sort a student based on what they have, I take into consideration what they want as well_."

"I don't want to be a Slytherin!"

" _That being said, I do sometimes go for what a person is over what they want."_

Peter felt ready to cry. It felt like he had been sitting there for _ever_! The Hat was just being weird! "You said I had some courage! You did! You said I'd fight for myself, and that's—that's courage!"

" _Do you truly feel you fit in with the Gryffindors_?"

"Yes," he said, hesitantly. He thought of the two other boys who had been Sorted into Gryffindor so bar. One of the black-haired boys who had been pretending to be a pirate in the boat Peter had been (the pale one, with the reckless sort of laughter), and some shaky little kid who looked like he was nine, not eleven, and far too timid to be in Gryffindor. The rest of the Gryffindors had been girls, so far. "Black's a Gryffindor. And—the other one probably will be." The Indian boy, who had talked endlessly about how amazing Gryffindor was in the waiting room before they were led into the Great Hall. "I want to be with them."

" _You think you're like them_?" He knew the Hat was referring to the other two boy Gryffindors, and not just Black and the Indian boy. " _You think you're as brave as them?"_

"I c-can be."

" _Perhaps_."

Peter shifted in his seat. He was beginning to get hot, with the Hat over his head for so long. How many minutes had he been sitting there? He thought he could hear students murmuring but it felt like his whole world was shrinking into this darkness, with that voice.

" _You could do well in Slytherin. You'd make friends like yourself."_

Peter whimpered, his heart sinking. That meant the Hat thought he could never be like a Gryffindor. Never be like Black or the Indian boy, standing on the boats, face in the wind as they laughed, not caring they might fall over. He wouldn't even get the chance to prove he could be!

" _You want to prove_ _yourself_ ," the Hat said, as if reading his mind, which it obviously could so he didn't know why he was surprised by this. " _Like a Slytherin."_

"No, like a Gryffindor! Brave, like a Gryffindor!"

" _There's nothing wrong with Slytherin. It is a great house."_

"If—if you felt that way you would have shouted it already!" Peter said miserably.

The Hat laughed. " _There's a bit of the bite. Would you go as far as a Gryffindor as you would a Slytherin? Which house would suit you better?"_

"Gryffindor," he said stubbornly.

" _Mm, you want to be a Gryffindor so bad. Yet you came in thinking you'd be thrown to Hufflepuff. You had given up, before I was even on your head! Now, is that the mark of a Gryffindor?"_

"It's not a Slytherin either," Peter pointed out.

" _You are not a Hufflepuff."_ For some reason, the way the Hat said this made Peter annoyed. " _You are a Slytherin. Or a Gryffindor. There's no doubt that Slytherin is a better fit for you, however your absolute hero worship of the Gryffindor name is very strong. You want to be one so bad, even if you don't fit in."_

"I don't care if I don't fit in," Peter said, though he wasn't sure if he meant it. What if he made no friends?

" _You are willing to take such a risk_?"

"Yes."

He hoped the Hat didn't know it was a lie, though since it read minds it probably did.

" _That's the response of a Gryffindor..._ " Peter perked up, hoping that meant he'd finally be Sorted! But, " _Is it enough_?"

He could _definitely_ hear murmurs now, could tell this was taking so long, everyone just watching him it there like a doofus on the stool with the Hat not Sorting him. He felt like a doofus as the Hat kept repeating itself, kept going back and forth.

" _It's quite the conundrum, little Pettigrew, where to put you. Where you should be. Where you want to be. Whether your desire is stronger than your traits."_

Peter wanted to just rip the Hat off and run out of the room. This was agony. Nobody else had taken this long. Nobody probably took this long in all of history! Everyone was going to make fun of him.

" _Your determination to prove yourself is such a Slytherin trait, yet what you want to prove is that you're as brave as any Gryffindor."_

What he wanted was to cry, but if he did he knew the Hat would just put him in Slytherin.

" _There is a spark of courage deep down inside of you. Yet, I suppose it remains to be seen whether it is courage, or determination."_

"Gryffindors are determined too," he said desperately.

" _I can see you in either house, Peter Pettigrew. Slytherin would do you best. And yet... I still cannot be sure..."_

He had to fight.

"I want to be in Gryffindor," he said, firmly. "I want to. I want to be a Gryffindor! I don't care if I don't fit in! I want to be with them! I want to be one of them! I want to! I'm a Gryffindor! I'm a _Gryffindor_!"

The Hat was silent again. Peter was on the verge of tears when, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Peter couldn't believe it even after the lady took the Hat off and pointed at the Gryffindor table. He crept down, mouth closing. He searched out for the Black boy and sat with him, hoping for a big greeting. Black mumbled a 'congrats' but didn't take his eyes off the remaining students waiting, didn't take his eyes off the Indian boy.

Peter sat down among the red and gold, beside Black, beside all the brave students, and thought he might explode into a million pieces of happiness.

*

"Potter, James?"

James smiled as his name was called, shooting a look towards Sirius. Sirius looked a little concerned. James wasn't worried at all.

He bounced over to the stool and sat down. The Hat barely touched his head when, "GRYFFINDOR!"

He grinned.

He knew he would be one. He never entertained the idea he might be somewhere else. It simply wasn't a possibility.

He belonged in Gryffindor.

*

"Silverlocke, Aegis?"

Aegis swallowed and went forward. He glanced briefly at the Ravenclaw table for his cousin who was giving him an encouraging smile, a double thumbs up. He smiled back then sat down, the Hat sliding down over his blonde hair.

" _What's this I see?"_

His smile faded immediately. He had hoped it would be a swift, quick Sorting. Just on his head, and put into Ravenclaw without any talking. Pan had been put into Ravenclaw quickly, and she hadn't even realized the Hat talked to you until her friend told her later on. He had hoped so hard that would be the case for him!

" _Interesting, very interesting_."

_Please put me in Ravenclaw_ , Aegis thought, trying not to shake. _I'm a Silverlocke._

" _Only half."_

He grit his teeth. _When it comes to lineage everyone is only half something, unless there is incest which, in my case, there is not. I belong in Ravenclaw._

The Hat laughed. " _Nice bit of logic there, young Silverlocke. Fitting... for a Ravenclaw... and... for a Slytherin..."_

Aegis's blood felt like ice coursing through his veins at that word. "No," he said out loud.

" _You can't deny what you are."_

_I am a Silverlocke._

" _You're very ambitious, you've got quite the desire to prove yourself. You're resourceful, and cunning. Your Slytherin traits run strong. Your Slytherin blood runs strong."_

_I am a Silverlocke, I belong in Ravenclaw_. The Hat remained silent and Aegis took in a quick breath. _Please. I perhaps do show Slytherin traits however there cannot be any denial of my desire to learn! I am a Ravenclaw._

" _I've been swayed by students arguing before. The House where they would fit in versus the House they want to be in."_

Aegis knew it was referring to putting a Black in Gryffindor, and crossed his fingers. He would be destroyed if he was put in Slytherin, he had no doubt of that.

" _You, however, are a different case. You have the brains of a Ravenclaw, but there is no denying you are—"_

"No."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Aegis slowly pulled the Hat off his head, cheeks burning as the Slytherin table cheered. "Go on," McGonagall said, waving her hand towards the table. She sounded kind, pleasant, a stark difference from the fear and dread filling up every inch of Aegis's body.

He swallowed again and shakily made his way to the Slytherin table. He gave his cousin another look and she, at least, looked as anxious as he felt. She knew what this meant, being in Slytherin. He sat down, and put his head in his hands, feeling angry eyes on him. He knew if he looked down the table there'd be nothing but animosity.

He could hear whispers.

"He thinks he belongs here, but he doesn't."

He knew it had been said just loud enough for him to hear, and any hope that he'd be able to get through his school days quietly simply dissipated.

He finally forced himself to look back at the Sorting, wishing he hadn't come to Hogwarts at all.

*

"Snape, Severus?"

There were only a few students left, but Severus hadn't expected his name to be called quite yet. He went forward towards the stool and sat down, fuming. Before the Hat could even speak, he let loose his anger.

_How could you put her there?!_ he demanded silently, making his thoughts as loud as possible, furious the Hat had taken away his friend, his only friend, the only person who ever truly understood him. _How could you!_ The only person who extended kindness, who hadn't crinkled her nose at his dirty clothes, hadn't made fun of him for his strangeness. _She isn't a Gryffindor!_ The only person who was ever truly there for him. The only one. _She is a Slytherin!_

" _Not many students come to me ready to argue someone else's Sorting,_ " the Hat remarked.

_Because you've made a mistake!_

" _I never make a mistake_."

Severus clenched his teeth. _You've made one with Lily—_

"SLYTHERIN!"

_No! You need to—you have to resort her!_ The Hat was silent. _Tell them you've changed your mind about her. Tell them she belongs with me in Slytherin!_

The deputy headmistress pulled the Hat off his head since he hadn't moved. He immediately looked at the Gryffindor table, meeting those beautiful green eyes. At least she looked distressed, she wasn't okay with her Sorting. That gave him a little comfort.

Her, a Gryffindor! It was ridiculous! He pulled away from McGonagall's hand as she tried to guide him toward the Slytherin table, and hurried to sit down. Older students were congratulating him which he barely heard, didn't care about.

All he could focus on was his cold anger, and the fact he and Lily had essentially been put on opposite ends of the earth. He was terrified Gryffindor would take her away from him, take away the only person he cared about, that cared about him... and he was determined to never let that happen.

No matter what.


	4. His Situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in between Book Two Chapter 27 through Chapter 39. It is told from James's POV and Peter's POV of when they were told about Remus's secret.

_ I'm sure it will work itself out fine _

_They are playing with your numbers, and we are running out of time_

_ You're a killer and I'm your best friend _

_ I think it's unfair, your situation_

_\- Be Nice To Me, The Front Bottoms_

*

James burst into laughter.

Sirius frowned as James tipped his head back, laughing so hard his sides began hurting. " _What_?!" he demanded, bending forward, clutching his stomach. "You've got to be kidding me! You—you can't be serious! I mean, you're Sirius, but—Merlin you can't be _serious_!"

Sirius folded his arms. He remained silent as James just continued to laugh until he couldn't anymore. "Are you done?" Sirius asked, a little grumpy.

James wiped his cheeks off. "I think so. That was a good one."

"I'm not joking."

"Right. Our Remus is a _were_ wolf," James snorted. He took his glasses off, wiping the lenses. "Sure, sure. Little Remus is a big ol' werewolf, everyone better watch out!"

"Don't!" Sirius looked genuinely annoyed at James's joke. "Look, I know it sounds a little ridiculous—"

"A little!" James said, laughing again.

"—but it's the truth. I told you he would get sick—or lie about his mother—on the twenty-second and he did."

James put his glasses back on. "Yeah? And? That's proof?"

Sirius pierced James with his stare. "It was the full moon. The days he was gone, they were the full moon. James, he disappears once a month and it matches up to the full moon. It's like clockwork. He always starts to look awful, then he disappears for a couple days, then he's back. All around the full moon."

"Buddy, hate to say this but I think you've been reading too many monster comic books—"

"I'm _not_ joking, or making this up," he snapped. "He also has issues with silver."

"And you know this... how?"

Sirius hesitated. "Um. I suppose I don't know for certain... but that necklace he wears, he claimed it was silver but it's not. It's fake silver."

James smiled. He could not believe his friend! Sirius's weird obsession with Remus had really taken a turn. "Okay. He gets sick once a month and wears a fake silver necklace. Oooooh! He must be a werewolf!"

"He is," Sirius replied through gritted teeth.

"Werewolves are—they're huge, awful brutes!" James said, spreading his arms out to indicate. "They're beasts. You've read the stories. Remus isn't at all like that."

"I... thought the same as you, but it's not true. Because Remus... he's... he's a werewolf. He _always_ disappears during the full moon. What else _could_ it be?"

James shrugged. "Coincidence."

"Coincidence that for the last several full moons he happened to either get sick, or his mother got sick," Sirius spat out.

"It's only September, you haven't been around him for the last several full moons," James replied.

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose. "I meant in our first year, the last few months of our first year. That's when he would 'get sick'. Or his mother would get sick. And last week, I—he got sick at the full moon again, and came back when it was over! He's lying about his mother, I told you that before. It's just... him. Once a month. Disappearing. Under the full moon. Exhausted before and after. He doesn't like talking about what he has because it's not some blood disease it's lycanthropy!"

"You're nutters." James was angry now at Sirius taking the mick. It was beyond a funny joke now. It was venturing into dark territory. "How could you accuse him of that? Werewolves are—are monsters."

"No they're not," Sirius replied. "Remus isn't."

"He isn't a werewolf—"

"Yes he is!"

James turned away from him, slowly shaking his head. Part of him did... well, there was _something_ to what Sirius has said, but it couldn't be real. Everyone knew werewolves were big and thuggish. There was a story his parents had read to him as a child, with a werewolf as the bad guy. It depicted him as enormous, hairy, covered in scars, with long fingernails and sharp fangs even as a human. James knew that was... a little much. But it had to have a ring of truth in it, didn't it? Then there was something his great-aunt had once said, when the newspaper ran an article about how werewolves were so intent on staying hidden. His great-aunt had said they didn't have a human mind even when they looked human, and that 'the beasts' didn't understand that the Ministry was trying to help.

He thought of Remus: small, delicate, frail. Happy to help them, cheerful, smiling. Even when he wasn't happy, when he was frowning or scowling he was just... a little kid. Werewolves weren't kids.

He shook his head again. "He's too young to be a werewolf."

Sirius didn't seem to agree. "Says who?"

James hesitated. "Werewolves are adults." But he wasn't sure about that so he changed tactics. "Remus is too nice. He's super nice. He's... quiet and—"

"And what?" Sirius demanded. "I thought the same as you, all right? I mean my family hates werewolves. They hate anything not a pureblooded witch or wizard. When I started suspecting Remus, I denied it because of everything you said. But he kept disappearing at the full moon. What disease does that?"

James had no idea how to respond. "It's ridiculous," he said, for lack of a better argument. "You scared me. You—you really scared me when you insisted you knew what he had, and said he'd get sick, and then he did. I thought he was—" James stopped, not wanting to admit he had assumed Remus was dying. Didn't want to talk about death at all. He still felt a little weird he had confessed everything he had to Remus. And Remus had knelt with him, and held him, and rubbed his back! What werewolf did that? Remus was _gentle_.

Then a new realization struck him. "Werewolves are dangerous. Dumbledore would never let a werewolf come to school! Unless you're telling me he doesn't know?"

Sirius merely shrugged. "I'm not sure who knows. I'm guessing he does, and probably Madame Pomfrey since she's been lying about him being in the hospital wing when he's not."

James gave a triumphant smile. "Right! Dumbledore and Pomfrey would _never_! Werewolves are dangerous, you know that! Everyone knows that! No way, no WAY would they let one stay in the school, stay in a dorm room with a bunch of kids!"

"Then werewolves aren't dangerous," Sirius said which caused James to actually take a step back, absolutely shocked. "Not when they're human at any rate. Remus isn't dangerous." Then he paused, and smiled. "Well. I guess he can be when his temper gets the better of him, but that's just his human side, not the werewolf."

James took another step back, breathing heavily, unable to understand why Sirius kept insisting. "There's proof he's not. Werewolves are dangerous, Remus isn't. He's just—he's a kid. Like us. A sick kid, and you shouldn't be saying things like that about him..." Doubt crept into his mind, whispering _what if?_ "Really, who's to say he _does_ disappear around the full moon?" he asked, returning to that argument. "It was just coincidence this month."

Sirius dove for his bag, rummaging around. "No it's not." He yanked a small piece of paper out of his bag and thrust it towards James. It was an Herbology guide for full moons, the end of 1971 and all of 1972 stuck together with a spell to form one piece of parchment. "Look at last year. Remus was sick right after Halloween, remember? He wasn't around for my birthday." Sirius tapped the paper which showed there had been a full moon for the first, second, and third of November, 1971. "And he missed coming back on the train, after the Christmas holidays." Sirius's finger moved to another full moon phase: the 30th and 31st of December, and 1st of January—which had been when everyone returned for the holidays that year, except for Remus who had been too sick and hadn't come back till a couple days later.

James studied the paper which had notes scribbled on it. The November one, and the one during New Years, then starting in February Sirius had written 'sick/mother sick' next to each full moon except for summer, obviously when he started suspecting. "You kept track?"

"I did," he said, sliding the paper back in his bag. "Jimmy, you—you know how... unusual he is... there's something _different_ about him. He's so secretive too, and lies about his health all the time. He's hiding something _big_."

"As big as a wolf?" James grumbled, turning away.

"Yes!" Sirius said, exasperated. "He is. I know he is. There's no other explanation! If—if there is, please tell me. I'd love to know."

James folded his arms, hunching his shoulders, un _able_ to give another explanation! If Sirius was right about the days Remus was sick or said his mother was sick then it was, in fact, to do with the full moon. "Maybe there _is_ some sort of disease that effects a person every twenty-eight days."

"Well, unless he's secretly a girl I highly doubt it," Sirius said. James raised his eyebrows, confused. "What?"

"What does that mean?"

"You know... their... _time of the month_ ," Sirius whispered.

James shuddered, thinking of the few things his mother had said. "Oh. That."

"Yeah."

"Um..."

"Yeah." Sirius coughed, going faintly pink. "Anyway, none of the girls disappear so that's not really a valid argument."

"No, but there has to be something..." James looked up at the ceiling, frowning, thinking of Remus so small and feeble and weak, and thought of werewolves who were... _supposed_... to be hulking and scary and strong. "Let's look up some medical stuff, and see if we can find something. Or—" He stopped, knowing his next suggestion was dumb. Asking Pomfrey if there was some sort of disease that only made someone ill once a month. Yeah, she wouldn't be suspicious at all considering they were friends with Remus and would know damn well they were trying to find out more about him.

Sirius went closer to James, putting a hand on his shoulder. "He's a werewolf."

"No, he can't be."

"He can't be if werewolves were what we were told growing up!" Sirius pointed out. "He can be if you realize that's _not_ what werewolves are." He licked his lips then stepped even closer, just a few inches away. "You know perfectly well there are a fair amount of werewolves hiding out there. There's occasionally reports in the paper of a werewolf being discovered pretending to be a regular person, right?" James slowly nodded, not sure where Sirius was going with this. "If—if werewolves looked that way, if all werewolves looked like what we would read in storybooks, then how come they're not caught quicker?"

James chewed at his lip, mulling over the question. "Obviously... they don't... all look like that..." Sirius raised his eyebrows as if to say, _see_? James scoffed and backed away again. "No, no, it's just coincidence..."

But he wasn't at all sure now.

He couldn't believe he was even entertaining the idea that Remus was a _werewolf_! It made _no_ sense! He reached up, clutching at his head. "Dumbledore would never."

"Dumbledore thinks it's safe," Sirius said. "He and Pomfrey are obviously protecting him."

"We've seen him during the full moon!" James cried out. "Remember? We visited him in the hospital wing!" He still recalled the first time he ever saw Remus in that room, how _awful_ he had looked.

"During the _day_!" Sirius retorted. "With the sun up, not the moon."

James began pacing, running his fingers restlessly through his hair. He had no more arguments, just the same things repeated. And Sirius would merely repeat what he said. They were at a standstill, and James didn't know what to do next. He wanted to argue more, find some sort of chink in the wall Sirius put up.

"Just think about it for a while," Sirius suggested. "But don't tell Remus or even mention it."

"Why not?" James asked, a little harshly. "Don't want him knowing how you really see him?"

Sirius just gazed impassively back. "I think it'd be better if we all knew, and could show him we still care about him. Of course, that's _if_ you still do," he added rather bitterly.

James drew back. "What? Of course I'd still care about him! Even if he were—which he _isn't—_ I still care. He's... he's our Remus."

"Even as a werewolf?" Sirius asked, wanting James to say it again.

James looked down. "Of course."

But Remus couldn't be a werewolf, he _couldn't_ be!

 _But, Sirius has a lot of good points_ , a voice whispered as he walked through the school. He and Sirius had been hidden in a secret passage on a Friday night, when Remus was at study group and Peter was doing some photography club stuff. Sirius had said he needed to talk to James without either of them around even though he made it clear he'd be talking to Peter later on.

That night when Remus came back James tried not to stare at him, to study him. He was the smallest of their group, a little shorter than Peter and much thinner. He hardly had any meat on his bones. He looked like you could just snap him in half. How could that be a werewolf? He sat on his bed, books piled around him as he sorted through to do homework, his pale brow furrowed, fingers in his mouth as he chewed at his nails. He looked the same as always. A ball of anxiety and stress. Not a ball of—of wolf!

James tossed and turned a lot that night, constantly waking up and staring into the darkness. At one point he got out his copy of _Fantastic Beasts_ and quietly opened it to the werewolf page, his wand lighting up the space in his bed. There was a drawing of a werewolf under a full moon, and the information was very bare. He read and reread the few lines then shut the book.

 _He can't be_.

He put the book away then turned his wand off, curling up to go back to sleep.

 _He just can't_ _be_.

*

Remus seemed so happy. He laughed at jokes, made sarcastic comments, and even argued with James and Sirius when Fort Dragon collapsed into a heap of rubbish. Every time he spoke or moved James would try to figure out if there was something wolfish about him and...

And truthfully, there was.

When he walked he moved with a strange grace James never noticed before. Not the kind of grace that was like... well, he still tripped a lot and was the clumsiest kid James had ever met. But he held his body in a way that Sirius and Peter didn't. It kinda reminded James a little bit of the way Seekers moved: agile and quick, and lean muscles (he much later learned the word he wanted to use for Remus was 'lithe'). Heck, James had never seen Remus without clothes, he might very well have loads of lean muscles hidden under there... though that thought made James laugh a bit.

At lunch and supper James realized just how much meat Remus ate. He usually had meat with every meal. Was that a wolfish trait? Then James thought to all the times Remus seemed to know when a teacher or other students was coming down the corridor. All the small times he had warned them to hush up or put their wands away. Wolfish instinct? He had known someone was following him the night Sirius followed him under the invisibility cloak, and Sirius had said before he thought Remus was 'good' at telling if someone was under the cloak...

 _He can't be_.

But James was really doubting himself now.

*

"He's a werewolf..."

James and Sirius were holed up in a secret passage, far from prying ears. It was Sunday evening, and they had spent a terrific Marauder-y day together including exploring the strange passageway with the pits. Now Remus and Peter were off working on homework, while James admitted that Sirius was right—which was a little irritating.

But Sirius didn't look smug. "I'm glad you've realized."

James hugged his knees, staring at the stone wall behind his friend. The more he watched Remus the more he realized there was something _different_ about the boy. Sirius's words kept swirling around his head, and he had realized Sirius was right. "What do we do?"

"Nothing. At the moment."

"Nothing? He's a _werewolf_! That's a pretty big deal, him being a werewolf, it's not like oh that person has freckles okay, no he's a WEREWOLF!"

"Is there a problem with that?" Sirius asked, eyes going a little steely.

"No! That's not what I meant," James said quickly, realizing how he sounded. "I meant... shouldn't... we tell him... we know...?"

"I think we should tell Peter first."

James made a face. "Maybe."

"Remus... isn't going to be pleased to find out we know his secret. If we all know it'll probably be easier for him." Sirius paused then frowned. "Ah, I _hope_ it'll be easier."

"He's a werewolf."

"Yes."

James sighed heavily, trying to wrap his head around the fact. "But then... that means the _Daily Prophet_ 's wrong."

"Huh?"

"They always go on about werewolves being dangerous." James stretched out his legs and began messing up his hair, a habit he doubted he'd ever break. "Remus isn't dangerous. And—and Dumbledore would never let a dangerous person come to school."

"Yeah, the Prophet's wrong, the Ministry's wrong, most of wizarding society is wrong," Sirius said, nodding. "Considering how a lot of them view Muggles and Muggleborns, are you that surprised?"

"He's not scary. Or a brute. Or—or any of that. He's just Remus."

"He is," Sirius agreed.

James groaned. "Would you stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"Agreeing with everything I'm saying!"

"I'm not gonna say you're wrong!" Sirius snapped right back. "Especially about Remus."

James grumbled under his breath, wishing Sirius would argue, and laugh, and say it was a joke. James knew he was right but still held a little seed of disbelief. Then after a second he said, "How come you think he hasn't told us?"

"Like you said, it's a big thing," Sirius pointed out. "You literally just said that. Most people _hate_ werewolves. He probably thinks we'd hate him too. I've tried to make it clear I'd be friends with him no matter what but I don't think he realizes I actually mean it."

"How could he think we'd hate him?" James demanded, a little bitterly.

Sirius snorted. "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, but... I don't know. It's a lot to take in, okay?!"

"Are you going to be okay around him?"

"What do you mean?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't want you acting too different around him. I don't want him thinking... you know."

James studied him carefully, trying to remember any time that Sirius had treated Remus differently. "I won't," he promised.

The next time he saw Remus he was a little worried he wouldn't be able to act like nothing had changed. Remus didn't seem suspicious about anything so he supposed he did a good job, and as Monday wore on it became easier. Werewolf or not, he was Remus. The only change really was what James knew about him.

 _How can anyone think poorly of someone like that_? he wondered that evening as Remus helped Peter with his homework, their heads bent in close as Remus explained things in an easy manner for Peter to understand. Then he began to grow angry. It wasn't fair. Remus was such a good person! He didn't deserve to be hated like that, like the books and newspaper and idiots like his dumb great-aunt said!

James jumped to his feet and went over, giving Peter a hug to make it less suspicious, then giving Remus a tight hug. They both gave him bewildered looks and he grinned. "Just cause," he said casually before sauntering back to his bed. They stared after him then looked at each other, shrugging.

James caught Sirius's eye, and Sirius smiled.

~*~

Peter knew _something_ was up.

He didn't know what, but that wasn't unusual. He was often in the dark when it came to things until his friends explained the situation.

But even when they explained the situation that mid-October Saturday morning he still felt in the dark. He looked at Sirius then at James, frowning deeply.

"I don't understand," he said. "That can't be right."

"He's a werewolf," Sirius said simply.

Peter slowly shook his head. "Um, I—I don't know much but I know that can't be—can't be right."

He knew both the fake Muggle views on werewolves, and the real wizarding ones. They were kinda similar. But werewolves were big! And scary! And hairy! They were vicious! Remus didn't have claws or fangs or growl at people. _Watch Out For That Werewolf_! was a book his mother had read to him as a kid, and he could still remember hiding under the covers terrified that a werewolf would come in and eat him like the werewolf did in the storybook to the naughty children.

"He's going to pretend to be sick today," Sirius said. "Or say his mother's sick."

"Okay," Peter said, going along with what they said because he guessed this was some kind of prank, but he didn't know why they'd be doing that. "That's kinda mean though."

"What is?'

"Pranking him about something to do with his illness," he said, folding his arms. "You know how touchy he is! You've gotten into fights with him before because of this and—"

"This isn't a prank," James interrupted. Peter chewed at his bottom lip. "It's not. Look, I didn't believe it at first either but he is."

"Okay so he's a werewolf even though he doesn't look anything like one."

"He does look like one," Sirius said firmly, "because he is one. What we assumed werewolves looked like is wrong."

James and Sirius came up with some pretty wild stories, but this one took the cake! And about Remus, too. It seemed really rude. Remus was the least werewolf-looking person in the entire school practically! He was so... _small_! Peter wasn't very strong but even he could probably pick Remus up and throw him across a room, and he knew you could never do something like that with a werewolf.

"Are you mad at him?" Pete asked.

James groaned while Sirius sighed. "We're not making this up. Look, you'll see. He's going to fake being sick today," Sirius said. "But when he does you can't say anything, all right? We're not going to tell him we know until after he comes back."

Peter scowled. "I'm not that stupid. I'm not going to say anything." But of course he doubted Remus would be ill. He seemed fine the night before. Course whatever it was he had seemed to hit him out of no where. He'd go to bed fine and wake up looking...

 _Well_ , Peter thought when Remus finally got out of bed when they returned to the dorm. _Like that_.

Peter tried not to stare at how awful Remus looked. He moved slowly, looking completely worn out despite having just woken up. He went to get a shower and as soon as he left Peter turned to Sirius.

"He—"

"Told you," Sirius said.

Peter stared at the door. It didn't mean anything. Maybe he just was feeling tired. Except when he came back after like, an hour, he still looked terrible and shuffled along with them on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. When James and Sirius brought up his health Remus admitted he might go see Madame Pomfrey.

Peter choked on his drink at those words.

"Nah, you don't need to go see Pomfrey," Sirius said as he smacked Peter's back.

Remus looked at Peter. "Pete, you okay?"

Sirius's hand was still against Peter's back and he felt Sirius pinch him slightly, as a warning. "Uhh, yeah! Went down the wrong pipe," he said, hoping Remus would accept that lie. Sirius's hand dropped away.

It had to be a coincidence though! A weird coincidence! Or—or maybe Sirius had noticed how rough Remus looked earlier. That was it! That _had_ to be it! He had seen Remus, and they decided to play a prank on Peter. Oooh, they thought they had him but he figured it out. He thought for a second maybe Remus was in on it but he looked so crappy he knew Remy couldn't be faking it.

But... he wasn't so sure as the day progressed. Remus didn't do much or talk much, and Peter kept wondering if Sirius had seen him before he woke up or not. Cause he—it just didn't make sense! At ALL! He COULDN'T BE!

Remus said he should probably see Pomfrey and they walked with him to the hospital wing and as they walked Peter frowned, trying to figure out any possible way for it to be true. _He's only sick like he usually is_. Was it a full moon that night? Peter didn't think it was. No. It wasn't. So there went that! Everyone knew werewolves came out during the full moon.

Suddenly Remus stopped walking and turned to face Peter who nearly walked into him. "Are you doing all right?" Remus asked, studying him closely.

Peter jumped a little then gulped, nodding. How could Remus tell?! "Yeah..." Beyond Remus Sirius was giving Peter a hard look. "My stomach just hurts some. I think from running around after lunch." He clutched his stomach for good measure.

Remus needed to go back to the dorms to get his bag 'in case he needed to stay overnight' but then finally they left him with Madame Pomfrey, all three of them kicked out since Pomfrey wanted to talk to him privately.

They sat on a bench, Sirius and James whispering while Peter swung his legs, staring down at the floor. He then glanced around making sure they were alone before leaning over. "It's not the full moon," he whispered.

Both the others stopped talking. "Yes it is," James said.

"No, it's not."

"Yeah it is," Sirius said. "Tonight, tomorrow, and Monday night."

Peter looked back down. Was it? He couldn't keep track of stuff like that. He remembered Professor Spring babbling about the moon in Astronomy on Thursday night. He had mentioned the upcoming full moon... so... maybe it was...?

Pomfrey let them back into the hospital wing, taking them into the little side room where Remus stayed. He was in hospital pajamas, looking very cross and irritated—the typical Remus look. Peter shifted from foot to foot while Remus insisted he wasn't having a relapse. He said he'd probably be able to leave before evening, and the Marauders said they hoped he would, and Peter asked Remus not to push himself. Then the Marauders left him before Pomfrey threw them out again.

"You're trying to tell me _that_ is a—" Peter stopped, looking around. "You're trying to tell me that?"

"Yup."

"He's so... weak looking..."

Sirius whirled around, putting his hands on Peter's shoulders. "You need to forget whatever you know about them," he said sternly. "I had to. James had to. We were wrong. The _Daily Prophet_ is wrong. They're not... like that. Remus is one."

"But he's so—"

"Good? And nice? And gentle?" James asked and Peter nodded. "I thought the same, thinking that meant he couldn't be. But Siri's right—"

"Oi, you _know_ I hate that nickname—"

"—and it doesn't change Remus at all," James went on, ignoring Sirius. "All t changes is what we think you-know-whats are."

Peter pulled away from Sirius. "You're being mean. You shouldn't be insulting him!"

"Pete, you know how much I worry about Remus!" Sirius said. "I'd never say anything like that to hurt him. I mean, I probably say things accidentally that hurt him, but never on purpose, I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't make this up. I'm telling you so we can talk to Remus together next week when he's back and doing better. Look, I'll prove it to you. Tonight."

"Wh—wh—what?!" Peter jerked back, suddenly afraid they'd drag him off to where Remus was in his werewolf form!

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Nothing dangerous. Besides, why are you so afraid if you're insisting he's not?"

Peter opened his mouth then closed it, glaring at Sirius. "I'm not afraid! And he's _not_!"

Peter spent the rest of the afternoon by himself, too annoyed with his friends for whatever it was they were doing. He wandered around the castle, taking some pictures, and playing card games by himself. Just before supper he went back to the hospital wing to see Remus, but Pomfrey said he had gotten worse and was unable to have visitors.

"How bad is he?" Peter asked, forehead scrunching. "Is it really bad?"

"It isn't _that_ bad," she said gently, a hand on his back as she guided him out of the wing. "He needs the rest. That's all."

Peter glanced over at the door. "Can I leave him something? I'll be quiet, I won't wake him up."

"No, he needs to be left alone."

Peter walked out of the hospital wing, unsure. It sounded logical to him. Remus needed rest, so he couldn't have visitors. Plus that little room he stayed in was too small for a big ol' werewolf to be in. It didn't made sense! He didn't tell the others that he had tried to see Remus, it would just make them both more smug as if it proved they were right.

*

 _Merlin's beard, they're right_!

It was just after midnight, and the three Marauders were in Remus's little room in the hospital wing. His... _empty_ room.

Sirius revealed his plan to sneak in under James's invisibility cloak. They broke into the hospital wing, and then into the little room. James had needed to do the unlocking spell a couple times before it finally unlatched.

"His bed is empty," Peter whispered, staring at the neatly made hospital bed. He pulled out from under the cloak and began inspecting the room, peering under the bed even. There wasn't any sign of him. No Remus. No shoes, no satchel, nothing. He turned around, staring at James and Sirius who were holding up the cloak so he could see them. "He's gone."

"Come on," Sirius whispered and Peter ducked under the cloak again.

They didn't go back to the Gryffindor tower, instead they went to the Astronomy tower, climbing up-up-up the stairs until emerging out onto the cold tower top. Peter wasn't sure why they were there until Sirius pointed at the sky.

At the moon.

The _full_ moon.

Peter craned his neck, staring with huge eyes at the moon. _Coincidence_ , he thought hazily. _It has to be a coincidence_!

"It doesn't make sense!" he whined. "He can't be, it isn't possible! Professor Dumbledore wouldn't ever let a werewolf come to Hogwarts! And he's only twelve, he's too young! And small! And—"

James clamped a hand over Peter's mouth, quieting him. "Calm down," he hissed out before slowly letting go. Peter remained silent. "I know. Okay? I _know_ how hard it is to accept this, but it's true. I—I kinda felt unsure until today. I started doubting it, but he's not in the hospital wing. He's missing, and it's a full moon."

"Maybe—maybe he's so sick they sent him to Saint Mungo's?" Peter suggested, but that sounded kinda pathetic even to him. He didn't know what else to think, though. The thought of _Remus_ as a _werewolf_ was so completely _weird_ and wrong! Werewolves weren't _humans_ and Remus was human!

He felt so confused and conflicted the entire way back to the dorm, and barely slept. He kept thinking how wrong this was. Trying to figure out why Sirius and James would lie. Try to figure out why Remus wouldn't be in the hospital wing. Try to figure out if he _could_ be a werewolf, if—if he was then that meant werewolves weren't horrible beasts cause Remus wasn't a horrible beast. But why would everyone lie about that? _Everyone_ know how evil werewolves were! Even Pete's own mother disliked them, and would say how good it was whenever a werewolf was caught. But that wasn't—it didn't match up with who Remus was. They were two completely different things. It was like taking one Quaffle—Remus—and another Quaffle—werewolves—and trying to smash them together into one, and it _just didn't work_!

Peter finally fell asleep, deciding it was just James and Sirius's imagination running wild, and a terrible coincidence.

*

"He can't have visitors."

The three of them had gone to the hospital wing shortly after breakfast, trying to see Remus. Peter frowned at those words since he had expected to be told Remus had been sent to Saint Mungo's. Saying he couldn't have visitors made it sound like he was there when they knew perfectly well he wasn't there, they saw with their own eyes less than twelve hours ago he wasn't there.

"Is he... okay?" James asked, looking over at the closed door.

"He'll be all right," Pomfrey reassured them. "I've told you countless times he merely needs _rest_. He can't have visitors right now."

"So, he's just sleeping in there?" Sirius asked, gesturing towards the room.

" _Yes_ , now please, go. Perhaps later he'll feel up to it."

 _Why would she lie_? They trooped out of the hospital wing, Sirius and James clearly pleased they were right. "I don't understand," he said when they put enough distance between them and anyone else. "It makes no sense."

"He is one," Sirius said then turned to face them. "Later this week we should talk to him. Let him know we know. Let him know he can talk to us."

Peter wrung his hands, anxious about this. He didn't like the idea of confronting Remus with such a nasty lie, but—what if it wasn't a lie? What if it was the truth? He didn't see how it could be, but—but Pomfrey clearly lied. It was a full moon. Remus was missing. And Sirius reminded him some of the other times Remus had been missing matched up with the full moon. Sirius's twelfth birthday, and the end of the Christmas holidays.

They snuck into the hospital wing again that night to find the room empty, and on Monday. Empty. Empty, empty, empty. Whenever they tried visiting Pomfrey would shoo them them out, insisting Remus needed rest, making it clear he _was_ in the room when he _wasn't_ , he wasn't, and she was _lying_ and Remus was _missing_ and it was a _full moon_!

Peter just shook his head again and again, still seeing those two Quaffles pressed together.

Remus couldn't be.

He couldn't!

 _What if he is_? he wondered as they headed up to their dorm Tuesday afternoon after Defense Against the Dark Arts. _What if he really is a werewolf_? He was scared at that thought. Terrified at the possibility they were sharing a dorm with a werewolf, but— _but_ it wasn't scary because it was Remus. It was scary but not scary which just made him even more confused.

No matter what though, even if Remus _was_ one (which he wasn't) he had always been so nice to Peter and helpful and everything a werewolf wasn't. So even if he was (which he definitely wasn't) then did that change him? If he was (nope) then that meant he had been one since starting school and all through their friendship he had been a werewolf. Peter had been maybe friends with a werewolf for a year now without ever suspecting or thinking anything was wrong, because of how great Remus was. He was great, and nice, and helpful while also being a werewolf (maybe?).

So. Even if werewolves were scary, Remus wasn't, and he was still all those things despite being one, so even _if_ then it was okay. Remus was Remus, the same Remus he had always been, even if he was a werewolf.

But of course, he wasn't a werewolf.

...

Right...?


	5. Who I Am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one shot is from the POV of someone we pretty much haven't met. It takes place in Book Two Chapter Twenty, when Remus was hanging out with Lily, Alice, and Cassandra, and a third year kept watching him. It is from this kid's POV. This character will not be coming into the story properly until much later (as of right now I am thinking Remus's third year) and what we find out in this one shot won't be revealed in the main story until Remus's fifth year. If you want to wait until Remus finds out then feel free to skip this one shot :) Also there is an author's note at the end of the story about this one shot and what it means to me so sorry for me talking a lot in A/Ns but oh well.

_Why is my reflection someone I don't know_   
_Somehow I cannot hide_   
_Who I am_   
_Though I've tried_   
_When will my reflection show who I am inside_

_\- Reflection, Mulan_

*

They sat on the low wall separating the courtyard from the covered area, their legs dangling down, their voices mingling as they talked and laughed. Cath swung his legs, the back of his trainers knocking against the stone.

"—then she goes 'sorry I thought it was your wand'!"

Frank bust up laughing while Cath shoved Quin. "You're disgusting."

Quin grinned, fluttering his eyelashes. "Part of my charm."

"You've got less charm in you than 'Baby's First Spellbook'," Cath snorted.

Frank laughed then leaned across Quin to give Cath a high five while Quin fake-scowled.

"You're both fuckin' jealous cuz I'm gonna be the first one here who's got a damn girlfriend."

"Not with jokes like that," Frank said, shaking his head.

"I just told it, you're the one who laughed," Quin said sweetly.

Frank shrugged. "I laughed, but I'm not going to tell that joke."

"I am _not_ going to tell that joke to a bloody girl!" Quin complained, flinging his arms out. "Merlin's balls. What the fuck kind've gentleman d'you think I am?"

Frank and Cath exchanged identical amused looks. "Not one?" Frank asked and then yelped as Quin nearly shoved him off the wall, but they were both laughing. "Your mouth is dirtier than Filch's mop."

"Ohh, mate, mate, come on, that's fuckin' foul!"

"As foul as that mouth."

Cath chuckled as his friends argued, leaning back against a pillar and sweeping his gaze out across the courtyard. Every other day one of them tried to convince Quin not to spew out every piece of crap that crossed his mind, and every other day Quin just told them to fuck off. The only time he ever calmed down was when one of the teachers brought the law down, then Quinton Weasley would be angelic for a few hours, then just go back to being as over the top as always.

Frank Longbottom and Cathal O'Kelley wouldn't have it any other way. Their trio was perfect the way it was.

Cath turned to say something to them then stopped, eyes darting back out to the grassy area. There had been three girls sprawled out but now a fourth student had joined them. Not a girl. A boy. He was sitting cross-legged with the girls, chattering away. Cath watched them for a second then joined back into the conversation with his friends which had shifted to the upcoming Hogsmeade visit. Their first real Hogsmeade visit. They were all _very_ excited, and had plenty of plans.

"I cannot _wait_ to go to Three Broomsticks," sighed Quin.

"Same here," agreed Frank, stretching his arms out. "Do some proper shopping. Honeydukes."

"Ohhh Honeyduuuuuukes!" Quin groaned, closing his eyes in bliss. Then he smacked Cath. "What about you?"

"Huh? Oh, everything really. Getting away from Hogwarts for an afternoon is going to be _great_."

He found his gaze drifting over to the three girls and the boy, especially the boy. . _He's just... sitting there with them_. Cath began swinging his legs again, studying the boy carefully. There was something familiar about him but Cath wasn't sure what. "You know who they are?" he asked.

"Which girl?" Quin asked immediately. "Who've you got your eye on?"

Cath groaned at where Quin's mind went to right off the bat. "I don't have my eye on any of them, I'm just curious, you wanker." Quin waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, _please_!" Cath shoved hard at him, nearly knocking him off the wall.

"I think the girl in glasses is a Colgate," said Frank helpfully. "Not sure about the black girl or the redhead."

"And the boy is Loopy," Quin said after regaining his balance.

"What?"

Quin smiled at Cath. "You know, one of those four troublemakers? Loopy, Barmy, Pratty, and Pokey. Potter and Black? That's Loopy, part of _their_ gang."

"Oh, that's right." Cath tilted his head to one side. "Loopy?"

"I dunno, it's what they call him, heard he's pretty cuckoo." Quin twirled his finger in a circle around his temple then bent in to whisper in Cath's ear, " _Not sane_."

Cath jabbed his finger against Quin's ribs causing him to yelp in pain. "That's mean."

Quin looked put out. "I'm only saying what everyone else is bloody saying—"

"Don't spread gossip, especially gossip like that!"

"Which girl were you looking at though?" Frank inquired, interrupting their mini-argument.

"I wasn't looking at any of the girls!" Cath complained which was true, he hadn't. It was the boy... Loopy... that piqued his curiosity. Just... sitting there with them. Talking to them. Being...

"What about you, Frankenstein?" Quin asked, nudging Frank.

"They're all cute," Frank mused, rubbing his chin. "But you're gonna go for the redhead so I have to pick someone else..."

"Oi!" Quin made a face. "Just because I'm a Weasley doesn't automatically mean I'm going to go for the redhead!"

Frank laughed. "Right. Your parents? Both redheads. Your dad's parents? Both redheads. Your sister-in-law? A redhead. Your future wife? Hmm, let me think. Oh I know! A redhead!"

"Mum does not have fucking red hair!" Quin snarled and Frank gave him a look. "Not... fiery red. More... it's blonde... Like Cath, just like Cath's hair."

"My hair is more... red-blonde," Cath said, plucking at a strand of his hair and crossing his eyes a bit to look at it.

"See?" Frank asked smugly. "Red."

"Red- _blonde_."

Cath was watching Loopy again now, tuning his friends out. Two of the girls were laughing, one looked a little annoyed, and Loopy had his nose crinkled up. Then Loopy—Cath wished he knew the kid's real name, he did not like thinking Loopy one bit—looked over and Cath glanced away, feeling awkward he had been caught watching.

When he looked back it felt a little like a punch in the gut. The curly-haired girl maybe-a-Colgate was now painting Loopy's face. Cath just stared until he saw the black girl shading her eyes so she could look at the boys. Cath looked down quickly, taking in a sharp breath. After a few seconds he chanced lifting his eyes. They were back to what they were doing, Loopy's face still being painted.

Cath leaned against the pillar and involuntarily gave a sigh.

"Right, which girl?" Quin demanded.

"N—no, I'm not—it's not—" Cath tried then gave up attempting an explanation because he could never really properly explain. He knew if he tried then it would ruin everything.

Loopy was now tapping his face with his wand.

"You're staring at them," Frank pointed out. "If you're not staring at one of the girls, thennnnn what? You're staring at him?"

Cath blew his hair from his face. "What do you think he's thinking just—just sitting there with those girls."

"He better be thinking he's one of the luckiest damn boys in his year," snickered Quin. "All three of those girls will probably be real lookers in a year or two."

"Especially the redhead?" Frank teased.

"Right, you say that one more time I'm going to rip your fucking tongue out and throw it to the squid," snapped Quin. Frank opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out, leaning in towards Quin who laughed and tried to shove him away. "Merlin, you call me gross, least I don't go try licking people."

"If I licked you I'd probably get some sort of disease," Frank said, settling back.

The girls were clamoring around Loopy and he began tapping their faces with his wand. Quin swallowed heavily watching them all giggle and laugh, his chest hurting. Loopy was kneeling, carefully doing something to the face paint on the redhead while the other two girls were studying their reflections. Cath thought perhaps the face paint was moving.

Cath knew he should stop staring but he couldn't help it. He wondered if the boy knew how he looked, how he seemed.

_Soft._

"Right," Frank said over something Quin said that Cath missed. "You're in for it now." He grabbed Quin and got him in a headlock. Quin yelped and the two struggled before falling off the ledge. Cath twisted around, watching his friends with amusement as they wrestled.

"Bloody hell, Frankenstein, ever heard of deodorizing spells? Your armpit is _rank_!"

"Not as rank as you!"

"Fight, fight, fight, fight!" Cath chanted quietly, pumping his fist.

"Shut the—oof—fuck up!" Quin moaned as Frank pinned him. "All right, white flag, uncle, you win! Let me up so I can go throw up after being stuck under your arm!"

Frank got up, helping Quin to his feet. "What's the score...?'

"Frank eight, Quin one," Cath said helpfully, swinging his legs around so he was facing inward, hopping to the stone floor. "For our third year, at least. Shall I throw in your second year scores?"

Frank grinned. "They're not much better for Quincy."

Quin glared at him. "I hate you."

"Face it, you'd miss me if I was gone!" Frank said, punching Quin's arm.

"Yeah, yeah," Quin muttered, though they all knew Quin couldn't live with Frank or Cath. "Let's go raid the kitchens. I'm _starved_."

Cath glanced back one more time at the second year group, at Loopy-whatever-his-real-name-was. If he hung out with Black and Potter he probably dealt with similar conversations to the one Frank and Quin were having. He wondered if Loopy went to the girls to escape that world like Cath sometimes wanted to, or if he brought undeniable boyness with him.

 _Soft_ , Cath thought again, sticking his hands in his pockets as he followed his friends. He wanted that so bad. He wanted to take a break from the overwhelming testosterone of Frank and Quin, but he didn't have a group of girls to go to. He was sorta friends with Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadowes but not enough to go to them like that.

Was that what those girls were to Loopy?

Even _if_ Cath were good enough friends with some girls to do stuff like that with he suspected Frank and Quin might tease him, like they were teasing him just now. They were both very aware of girls and often caught Cath watching girls closely, figuring it was for the same reason they did.

But it wasn't.

Because Cath wasn't interested in girls, not like that.

But he wasn't gay either.

Because Cathal O'Kelley was pretty sure he wasn't a he.

When he was little he'd play dress up with his older sister, putting on her skirts, putting their mother's makeup on. Cath would parade around with Cadhla. Cadhla would call him her little sister, and Cath _loved_ it. Whenever their parents caught them they'd flip out and ground both kids but whenever they were alone Cadhla would put Cathal in her clothes, and Cath would be the little sister, not the brother. When she had gone to school Cath would sneak into her room and put on the clothes she left behind, and during the holidays he'd be little sister again.

He remembered telling Cadhla _I'm really a girl_ when he was eight and she was fifteen. She had hugged Cath tightly and said that was fine with her. For his eleventh birthday Cadhla bought him makeup with the promise of never letting their parents know.

But now they barely saw each other anymore. Cadhla graduated the year before Cath went to Hogwarts and got a job with the Ministry. During the holidays they only interacted with the family, as brother and sister, not sister and sister.

Plus ever since coming to Hogwarts he began to grow unsure. He was put in the boys dorm. He became good friends with Frank and Quin. Two of the boyiest boys Cath had ever met. He wore the boys' uniform, slept in the boys' tower, went to the boys' bathroom, and was constantly called a boy, boy, boy, all the time, and he felt sick, and he hated it, but he didn't know what to do about it.

He just wanted to be _soft_ and feminine and sit with a bunch of girls who were braiding each other's hair and doing each other's nails, like that Loopy kid who just _sat_ there with him as if he didn't care at all about hanging out with _girly-_ girls being so damn _soft_ like Cathal felt he could never do because he knew if he tried to put himself in with Marlene and Dorcas they'd just giggle and flirt and tease, and it _wasn't like that_.

Whenever he saw someone like him hanging out girls it was always flirting. Sometimes he saw boys and girls being just friends but there never seemed to be that softness Cathal craved, except for what he saw in the courtyard that he was so jealous of. Jealous! Of a second year boy just doing his own thing, not even knowing about Cathal's existence let alone the crisis he was going through because of it!

He glanced ahead at Frank and Quin. He liked them, wanted to stay friends with them. It wasn't that he didn't want to be friends with them. He just wished... he could... be... more of who he... thought he might like to be... but he knew if he tried to be more feminine it would result in _more_ teasing and they'd probably think he was gay which he wasn't.

"Hey, I'll catch up with you in a minute," Cath said then wheeled off, heading towards a nearby bathroom. A nearby boys bathroom. He hesitated before going in, shoving the door open and letting it slam hard behind him.

After making sure he was alone he fell against the wall and clutched at his head, so confused, _always_ confused! Did it matter what he felt, or what he wanted? Because that didn't—he wasn't, he couldn't just be a girl. No matter how he felt, he couldn't be.

Could he?

He whirled around to look at the mirror. He had been growing his hair out and kept it in a low, 'masculine' looking ponytail but he yanked it out of its band then shook his head, letting his reddish-blonde locks float around his face. He reached out, touching the mirror, staring into his own perplexed brown eyes.

He looked down at his body, putting his hands against his chest. Sometimes he'd wake up wondering if he had started growing breasts in the night. He pressed against his shirt, feeling the flatness underneath. Not all the girls in his year had much there yet but soon he'd be unable to imagine he was still waiting.

 _I wish I looked more like Marlene_ , he thought, turning to the side, frowning at the frame that was slowly becoming more masculine with each passing year. He touched his face, his horrible jawline, then slid his hands down to his shoulders. Then he glared at the mirror and smacked it with one hand, turning away.

He intended to storm out but then stopped, staring at the door. He hunched forward, wrapping his arms around his middle. _Little sister_ , he heard his sister say again. He wished... he wished so much, and wondered why he hadn't been born a girl, it wasn't fair! He wished he could just research enough medical magic and alter his body, change it to what he wanted—and he was sure he probably could when he was older but...

 _How amazing would that be though_? He glanced at his reflection again, imagining his wand changing his features, his body. Everything. He wanted it so bad. More than anything else he could ever imagine, he wanted to be a girl on the outside because he felt like a girl on the inside.

Did that... mean he was a girl?

Did it matter what his body said, what _everyone else_ said, what his bathroom and bed and uniform said? Or was it what his mind, heart, and soul said? All it screamed _girl!_ It was just the outside that wasn't right.

And it was the outside that he could change.

He slowly went back to the mirror, eyes wide as he processed this new idea. You could change the outside without any damage. Transfiguration—his favorite class—was proof of that. There was plenty of human transfiguration and indeed Professor McGonagall could turn her whole damn self into a cat! Not that it made her a cat, but it—

Cath gasped out loud, covering his mouth.

 _She looks like a cat, but she's not a cat, she's still Professor McGonagall on the inside_.

Cath began shaking.

When Professor McGonagall turned into a cat she looked like a cat on the outside but was still her inside. So.

He put his hand up to the mirror again, pressing his palm against its own image.

_Does that mean even though I look like a boy on the outside I could be a girl on the inside?_

Okay so McGonagall had been born a human and only became a cat through magic, it wasn't the same as being born looking like a boy but really being a girl inside, but it was close enough that Cath felt—

 _Happy_.

A rush of pure joy surged through Cath's body at this random thought that had slithered its way into his head.

He felt happier than he had felt in a long time. He wasn't sure if that was way things worked but he didn't care. He had hope, now. Even if he had to wait until after school to try to look how he felt because Merlin knew there was no way he could try to do anything like that to himself at school, if anyone else found out about this he'd be a laughingstock, he'd be bullied mercilessly, if his parents found out... no, he'd have to wait till after school.

 _Can I wait though_? he wondered, pulling his hair back into the low ponytail. _Can I wait five more years_? The past two years had been absolute agony! But that's when he hadn't thought... when he assumed... when the _BOYS DORM!!!_ box had been put over him, caging him in, cutting off the remnants of _little sister_. At home he had been able to easily think that about himself but coming to school forced him to go with what was on the outside and nothing else.

 _Yes_ , he decided slowly. _I can wait... at least... it's not the total darkness I had been feeling_...

Besides... even if he could never have his body look how he thought was 'right' it didn't change how he felt. He realized... it didn't matter how the outside looked because on the inside he knew. He _knew_ now.

Though it also meant maybe cutting Frank and Quin out of his life, if they were still friends post-graduation he couldn't imagine how they'd ever accept Cath being like _hey actually I'm a girl_.

Actually a girl.

Cath felt a shiver at that. "Actually a girl," he whispered, very softly on the off chance someone could somehow hear.

Actually a girl?

Was he?

Wait... no... not he...

 _She_ , Cath thought. _She. She. Girl. Not a boy_. Words Cath had thought long ago before school that were pouring back in as the barrier put up by being put in the boys' dorm was pulled down. _Girl, sister, she_.

Cath stared in the mirror again, and smiled.

_She._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one shot is close to my heart. Some of you know, but others don't: I am trans. I didn't realize until I was an adult, and I was in a similar mindset as Cath when I tried to figure myself out. There was a lot of self misgendering, and wrong pronoun use (and when Cath comes into the main story, she'll be called he/him and a boy until Remus finds out otherwise). Cath at this point isn't sure of her gender and is still struggling, so she refers to herself as a boy, and using he/him pronouns until the end when she starts thinking beyond the box she's been put in. I imagine in wizarding society in the 70s it's really difficult for her to understand things (it took me decades to realize I'm actually a he and that's in the 21st century!). But she is a girl. Trans women are women, and trans men are men. We're not confused, we're not wrong for being who we are. We are who we are regardless of what people see on the outside, or what others might assume because of our bodies or what our bodies do. I was going to put off posting this one shot till later but considering what a specific person has been tweeting I felt like I really wanted to get this out now. I'm really excited for when eventually Cath and Quin and Frank all come into the story properly and I hope you are too!


	6. When I Was Little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place on one day in 1965, before any of the main story

_We could build a rocket, fly to the moon_   
_Leave Tuesday morning, and be back for noon_   
_There wasn't nothing, nothing that we couldn't do_   
_Once, when I was little_

_\- Once When I Was Little, James Morrison_

_*_

15 February, 1965. _The Pettigrew Household_

"Captain! Captain! There's a ship coming up! Where? To the right, Captain! They got cannons out'n'pointed right at us!"

"Starboard."

"Huh?"

"When you're on a ship, the right side is called starboard."

Peter stared up at his grandfather with big eyes then smiled. "To the starboard! They got _cannons_! Incominnnng! KaPPPHOOO!!! WaaBOOOOOM! Kkssssssshhhh! Caaaaptain our ship blowing UP!"

Peter, holding tightly to the toy pirate ship, flailed his hand around.

"WE GOIN' DOWN, CAPTAIN! Waaaaaahhhhfoooooshhh!" He dropped the ship and it bounced across the orange carpet. "Ahhhhhhh!! There's a MONSTER in the WATER!" He grabbed the stuffed octopus and began slamming it against the ship. "KRAKEN! KRAKEN!"

Peter's grandfather grinned. "What's a kraken, Captain Pete?"

Peter hesitated. He knew what a kraken was, but suddenly forgot. "Um." He looked down at the toy, and remember. "It's a BIG octopus," he said, holding up the plushie. "It can wrap around an entire ship! It's HUGE! It—"

The back door slammed open, and Pete's mother's voice filled the house as she and her husband stormed into the kitchen. "—lling you I don't want to talk about it."

"Susan, come on. I told you last summer—"

"He's going to Hogwarts."

"And if he doesn't get the letter?"

"He will!"

Reginald Pettigrew lowered the paper, staring at the doorway that led to the other room. Peter clutched at the octopus, not sure what to do.

"Maybe he will. And if he does we can take him out of, er, Muggle school," Cuthbert said.

Peter looked down at the ship by his foot. He picked it up, wriggling it a bit, watching the cloth sail waver with the movement. "Muggle," he told the ship quietly then slammed it down into the carpet. "Muggle."

Reginald grunted as he stood up, shuffling towards the door, towards the argument. Peter watched his grandfather's large bum disappear and waited for the fighting to get worse. Whenever his grandfather got involved with his parents' arguments it always went worse.

"Muggle school was good enough for me, good enough for Bertie, it's good enough for Peter!" Reginald snarled. "Get him a good, proper education!"

"I never went to Muggle school and I'm fine!" Susan said sharply. "Peter will be fine. I'll educate him at home. It's what magical folk do, it's what I'll do until he gets the letter."

Peter threw the octopus then picked up a pirate figurine. "You better get the letter," he whispered to the toy then conked its head against the ship. "You don't get the letter it be bad."

"He's missed his first year already, we keep him back any more and he'll be so far behind everything!" Cuthbert pleaded.

"When Ada was alive, she deferred to me for everything," Reginald harrumphed.

There was a loud thudding sound, dishes rattling. "It's the 1960s, Papa," his mother snarled. "Things are different. Bertie and I are equal. And in my world woman are certainly as equal as men. We've had female Ministers for ages! Muggle world do good with one of those."

"We've got our Queen, that's more than enough."

"Da," Cuthbert cut in, "come on, don't get worked up. Sit down. Susan's right. I _like_ her being equal. This isn't the Dark Ages."

"Dark Ages?! How old d'you think I am?!" His grandfather made irritated sounds as a chair scraped across the floor, and Pete heard him settle into the creaking chair. "I'm not saying a lady's not got a right to her place in the world, my dear, but Bertie also has the right to have his son—his _child_ —educated as he sees fit!"

"I'll _think_ about it." Peter looked up as his mother swept into the living room, her face rather red. She kept smoothing down her skirt the way she usually did when she was upset then smiled at Peter, a fake smile. "Hey sweetheart," she chirruped, falsely happy. "Ooh what happened here? Shipwreck?"

"Kraken," he mumbled.

"That sounds scary. Any survivors?"

"No. Dead. Everyone dead."

"Oh no. What about him?" She picked up the pirate.

Peter snatched it from her hand. " _No_!" He flung the pirate against the floor angrily. "He dead too!"

"Oh." Susan sat back against her heels, watching Peter carefully. "Pete, darling, would you... like to go to Muggle school?"

Peter frowned. "Muggle is no magic?" he asked cautiously. He thought that's what it meant but again couldn't remember. That happened a lot to him. Someone asked him a question he _knew_ the answer to but as soon as they asked he'd forget. Even if it was something at obvious!

"That's right. Muggle isn't magic, like your father and grandfather," she explained.

Peter shook his head. "No. I wanna learn magic, like you." His mother smiled, very pleased by this, and Peter was happy he pleased her. "Magic is good," he continued, and his mother nodded. "I wanna learn _magic_."

"That's my boy," she whispered very quietly, reaching out to stroke his hair. Then she sighed. "You might need to go to Muggle school for a while though." Her fingers slipped across his cheek then she held up the figurine. "Peter, can you make this float? Go on, try."

Peter shifted a little, heart thumping. "Um, yeah, I can do it," he mumbled then focused on the figurine, doing what his mother told him to do. He _vi_ sualized the toy just staying in the air, floating. His mother let go of the pirate and it plummeted to the floor. Peter looked up, terrified his mother would be mad again. "I didn't mean," he said quickly. "I can try 'gain!" He went back into his toy box to pull out the toy wand. He pointed it at the pirate, plastic wand quivering. The figure didn't move one bit.

"Just _think_ about it! Picture it in your head. C'mon, darling, you can do it."

He dropped the wand as his father came into the room. "Susan, are you forcing him again?" Peter's father asked, sounding annoyed.

She glared at him, pulling Peter into her arms. "I'm not."

His father crouched down, smiling at Peter. "Daddy can't do magic either, can he?" Peter shook his head. His father smiled and smoothed down Peter's blonde strands. "It's fine. It's perfectly fine if you're like me. Right, Mom?"

His mother had the false smile on her face again. "Of course it's fine," she said and Peter knew she was lying. "But. It's also okay to try to do magic. He wants to try. He's wanting to try on his own and we should encourage that."

Cuthbert's jaw went tight. "He's wanting to try to please you—"

Susan put her hands against Peter's ears, pressing in. "We do not discuss this in front of him," she said, and Peter wondered why she even bothered trying to cover his ears, it didn't _do_ anything. He could hear perfectly fine, just a little muffled.

"I thought we agreed not to push him—"

"I'm not pushing, he wants to!" she said, letting Peter go, scrambling to her feet to glare at her husband in the eye.

"He wants to because you want him to!"

"I want to," Peter said but neither of them heard his little voice. "Daddy, I want to—"

"So it's okay to make him do what you want him to, but not what I want him to do?!" Susan snarled.

Cuthbert threw his hands in the air. "He can do BOTH, Susan! Going to Muggle school isn't going to undermine him going to Hogwarts!"

Pete's head swiveled back and forth, frowning up at his parents. "I can do both!" he said, tugging at his mother's skirt. "I can go both Muggle _and_ magic school, Mummy."

Susan looked down at him, lips pressed thin. Cuthbert smiled and reached down to pick Peter up. "See?" he said, hefting Peter up to look him in the face. "It's all right no matter what. Whether you're Muggle or magic? It's all right either way."

"Of course it is," Susan added swiftly, reaching out to squeeze Peter's arm, jiggling it a little bit. "Mummy and Daddy are proud of you no matter what."

Peter nodded but knew it was a lie. He knew if he was Just Muggle like his father and grandfather they'd be fine but his mother would be unhappy, but if he could Do Magic then his father and grandfather would be okay with it and his mother would be happy, so he had to be able to Do Magic and then everyone would be happy.

Magic made everything okay.

*

15 February, 1965. _The Potter Household_

"JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER YOU GET DOWN FROM THERE RIGHT THIS SECOND!"

"Come an' get me!" James teased, legs swinging. Euphemia narrowed her eyes, glaring at her son who was on the chandelier, clutching his father's broom. He stuck his tongue out. "Come and get meeee!" he sang.

She pointed her wand and James laughed as he was propelled through the air, flying down into her arms. "You, young man, are in so much trouble!"

"Big twouble," he agreed, giggling. Euphemia tried to look serious but couldn't, and began laughing, tickling him. James shrieked and kicked, flinging his head back. "NO MAMA THAT TIIIICCCKLLEEEES!"

"Should have thought of that before stealing your father's broom!"

"My bwoom!" James wriggled loose and thumped to the floor, running over to where Fleamont's broom had fallen.

"Don't you touch that—"

James wrapped his arms around the broom. "My bwoom. I'm gonna tell Daddy. My bwoom now. I _found_ it."

"You stole it," she accused.

"Nooo," James disagreed. "I _found_ it. It was all alone in the snow. All alone. I think someone abandon it."

"Outside?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Yupyup, outside in the snow. Alone."

"Not the front hall broom case?" Euphemia asked.

James smiled sweetly. "Oh no, I found it outside. I _pwomise_."

Effie sighed. "Ebba! Ebba!"

Their house-elf appeared with a gentle cracking sound. "Yes Mistress?"

"Go and tell Monty his son is a thief."

Ebba looked at James, ears wiggling. James grinned at her, wiggling his ears right back. "Ebba tell Daddy my bwoom now," he said.

Ebba turned back to Effie and bowed low. "Ebba go tell Master." With that she disappeared.

Euphemia folded her arms. "How did you even get that? It was locked up."

James adjusted his glasses. "Not anymore," he said with a wicked grin.

" _James_! What have I told you about unlocking things—" James blew a raspberry and threw his leg over the handle. "James. Don't you dare." He grinned at her. "James, I mean it."

"Up!" he said and the broom jerked upward. He yelped and nearly fell off. "Whoa."

"James, darling, get off, that's not your broom."

"Yes it is. Mine now."

"You _are_ a thief," said a new voice. Fleamont appeared at the top of the grand staircase, looking stern. James stared up at him, glasses slipping a little.

"Yep," James agreed, sounding uncertain.

"If you're going to steal my broom, at least have the decency to have good form." Monty reached the bottom of the stairs and marched over, adjusting James's hands. "Quidditch players can hold the broom here because they're adults, you're still a very small child. You need to hold it here for balance."

"MONTY!" Effie screeched. "Don't encourage him!"

James giggling, legs swinging now. "Mama, I _told_ you, it's _my_ bwoom."

"No, James, that's my broom. You may borrow it," Fleamont said sternly but he gave James a gentle shove and James began flying around the front hall.

"No he may not! It's too dangerous!" she cried out as James picked up some speed, squealing with joy.

Monty laughed, wrapping an arm around his wife. "Effie, he's inside the house, what could he possibly d—"

His sentence was cut off as James flew right into the grandfather clock, sending it crashing to the floor, glass and wood going everywhere. James hovered by it, mouth hanging open.

"Um," he gulped, "I din't do it."

Effie glared at Monty. "What were you saying?" she hissed out.

Monty grimaced a little. "If you didn't do it, who did?" he asked, going over to point his wand at the clock. "James, come over here it's dangerous. Repairo."

"Um, a twoll did," James said, scooting the broom towards his father as the clock began repairing itself, wood and glass flying through the air.

"A troll?"

"Yup. Came in. Knocked it over."

"James, I was looking _right_ at you. You flew into the clock. You are lying."

James frowned, thinking about this, and then made his eyes go big. "I love you _so_ much, Daddy."

Monty's lips and mustache twitched then he smiled, picking James up off the broom. "I love you too James," he said. "How about we get you a broom more your size? Then you can fly safely."

"YES!" James screeched loudly, causing Monty to wince.

Effie gave a disgusted sound, throwing her hands in the air. "And I get no say in this?"

"I'm gonna be a famous Qwidditch player one day!" James told his mother, sticking his jaw out stubbornly. "I need a bwoom. Can't play Qwidditch without a bwoom. Can I _weally_ get my own?" he asked, looking back up at his father.

"Yes, I'll send a message to Baldwin," Monty said, referring to the owner of the MidnightFlight broom company.

James squealed and began flailing, so Monty set him down before he dropped his son. "Yes yes, thank you, Daddy!"

"I don't know," Effie said dubiously.

James hurried over, looking up, giving her the same big eyes he had given his father a moment ago. "Mama, can I _please_ have my own?" He clasped his hands together, pressing them under his chin. "Pwetty please? With supa' extwa chocolate suga' on top?"

Monty hid a smile behind his hand. "You have to admit, my dearest, he _was_ practically born with a broom in his hand."

"I'm the one who pushed him out, I think I'd remember that," she grumbled.

"Pleeeaaaase?!" James pleaded, falling to his knees. " _Pleeeeaaaaaaseeee_?" Effie glanced at Monty then bent in, whispering something in James's ear. He began giggling. "Okay, Mama!" Then he ran over to his father, grabbed his trousers, and tried to yank them down.

Monty just looked down at his son grunting and struggling. "Dearest darling, are you encouraging our son to pants me?"

"Me?" Effie gasped out, pressing a hand to her chest. "Never."

"My boy, it's best to loosen the belt if you're trying to do that," Monty said.

"Oh." James squinted at the belt. "Can you?"

Monty undid his belt, and James yanked down his trousers and began laughing along with Effie while Monty shook his head. "Have you had a good enough laugh at my shorts?" he asked and James nodded. "Righto." He pulled his trousers back up, redoing the buckle. "Remember, you shouldn't do that to anyone who doesn't want it done, okay? Do you understand?"

James nodded again. "Got it. Don't do it if they don't want."

"That's right."

James whirled around. "Mama, that means I can have the bwoom?" Effie nodded and James jumped up and down. "YES! THANK YOU MAMA! THANK YOU DADDY! I LOVE YOU!" He hugged his father's legs then ran over to hug his mother's legs. "I can't WAIT! How soon? Now? Can I have it now? I haven't got a pwesent in _foweva_ '!"

"You just got a whole bunch of presents at Christmas," Effie reminded him.

Monty went over, putting a hand on James's head. "It's going to take a while, and _might_ be ready for your birthday."

James let out a long, resolved sigh. "That's _so_ fa'way! How many days?" he asked his mother, tugging at her trousers.

"One month and twelve days," she said.

James pouted. "That's no good. I don't like it. Want the bwoom _now_. Please?"

Monty crouched down to look James directly in the face. "No, you must be patient. It's going to take time for Baldwin to custom make a broom for your size. It takes _time_."

James thought about this then nodded once more. "Okaydey. I can wait. That's okay."

Monty tousled his hair. "That's my boy."

James grinned, wrapping his arms around his father. Monty hugged him tightly back, peppering kisses on his head. His parents were constantly hugging and kissing him, and he hugged and kissed back. Effie gave a whoop as James tackled her, the two of them falling back and laughing. Monty gave a rough laugh and joined the fray, tickling James, pinning him to the floor while his legs kicked. Then Monty pulled James back into his lap, the two of them hugging tightly, James burying his face against his father's neck. Effie sat next to them, sliding her arms around both of them, looking merrily into James's face. James beamed, enjoying the group hug that happened multiple times a week.

"Love you Daddy, love you Mama."

There was never any shortage of love—physical or emotional—at the Potter household.

James couldn't even imagine a relationship that didn't involve physical affection.

*

15 February, 1965. _The Black Household_

A scream, a crash, and the sound of glass breaking.

Sirius winced, caging his arms around Regulus as his brother shivered against him. "Shhh." Sirius adjusted his body, putting more of it between Regulus and the door. "Just be quiet."

Regulus gave a stifled cry and pressed his face against Sirius's chest as something else shattered somewhere in the house. Walburga was screaming, full force, at Orion, who was screaming right back. Their words were lost in the rage, and Sirius doubted they even really knew about what they were arguing about although Sirius knew it had to do with the fact Orion had been gone most the afternoon for some sort of 'business meeting' and hadn't done anything to help with the family get together Walburga was having that night.

The two brothers were hiding underneath Sirius's bed, hoping the storm would just blow over without either of them getting sucked up into it. Unfortunately, it wasn't the case.

 _Shit_ , Sirius thought as his mother went silent. Dead silence usually meant one thing and sure enough he soon heard her high heels tapping down the corridor. "Wait here," he whispered and pushed himself out from under his bed, standing up as the door flung open.

Walburga cast an angry gaze around Sirius's room then at him, lips curling into a sneer. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "This place is a mess. Look at this!" She went over, kicking at the paints he had left out, the colors splashing across the dark wooden floor.

"I didn't mean to," he said, scurrying over to pick them up.

"Of course, you _never_ mean to," she snapped, glaring down at him. She kicked the last upright pot and the blue splattered across Sirius's hand. "You're innocent, aren't you? Anyway, get your brother cleaned up and ready. The dinner party is going to be starting soon. He's your responsibility to get ready tonight. Got it?" She didn't wait for an answer, only spinning around. "KREACHER!"

The house-elf appeared with a loud crack. "Yes Mistress?"

She snapped her fingers impatiently. "Get cleaning supplies so he can get that stuff off the floor."

"Yes Mistress."

Sirius watched his mother and Kreacher both leave then whirled around, dropping to his knees so he could look under the bed. "Are you okay?" he asked, and Regulus nodded. "You heard Mother. After I clean up the paint I'll help you in the bath—"

" _What_ is he doing?!" Kreacher had come back silently with a bucket and soap. Sirius fell on his butt, startled. "What is he hiding under his bed?"

"Nothing—"

Kreacher dropped the bucket and pointed his finger at Sirius's bed. It shot up into the air, banging into the ceiling. Regulus yelped and cowered. Kreacher's nasty grin disappeared. "Master Regulus!" He kowtowed immediately, his nose hitting the floor. "Oh, Kreacher is sorry."

"S'kay," Regulus whimpered, inching out farther into the room so Kreacher could lower the bed gently. "Keacher not know I dere."

"Kreacher, run the bath," Sirius said as he began scrubbing the floor.

"Kreacher is busy," Kreacher growled.

Sirius glared. "It's for Regulus."

"Oh. Yes, Kreacher will draw a warm bath for Master Regulus, yes, a nice warm bath," Kreacher said, bowing to Regulus before disappearing with another crack.

Sirius rolled his eyes then scrubbed harder. The paint was still wet so it didn't take too much to get it up. Regulus sat nearby, watching him. "Siri, Keacher nice," he said. Sirius clenched his teeth, not answering, just scrubbing harder. "Bath?" Regulus asked, since his brother didn't respond.

"Yes, you need a bath," Sirius said, sitting back on his heels. He knew he should correct his brother's baby speak. It irritated Walburga especially since Reg would turn four in a couple months, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Besides, Orion didn't seem to care. Reg wasn't the Heir so it didn't matter if he didn't speak properly. Though by the way they acted Sirius sometimes thought they'd prefer it if Regulus was the older one. "There's a dinner party tonight."

Regulus made a face. "Don' wanna go."

"You have to." He wrung the cloth out into the bucket then wiped up the wetness with a dry cloth.

"Siri be dere?"

"Yes, I'll be there." He examined the floor carefully. It looked clean enough. He hoped it was clean enough. He dropped the rag in the bucket then got up, offering his hand to Regulus who took it. "I'll be with you for the dinner party."

"'Kay."

They went down the hall and into the bathroom where the bathtub was full of brilliant green bubbles, several of which were floating. Regulus giggled, trying to pop some of the bubbles that floated their way while Sirius began taking both their clothes off. He got Regulus into the tub then got in behind him so they could get cleaned up together. He scrubbed Regulus off, making sure to get behind his ears and between his toes. Then Regulus played with the bubbles while Sirius scrubbed himself off.

"Kreacher!" he called out once they were both rinsed off well enough. There was no response. " _Kreacher_!" He waited then turned to Regulus, giving him a look.

"Keacher!" Regulus called out

Kreacher appeared with towels, already knowing what they needed. One he dropped, the other one—warmed up my magic—he kept off the ground. Sirius helped Regulus out of the tub and wrapped the warmed towel around him before grabbing the other one for himself. The two boys dried off then Sirius got the magicked hairbrush, gently brushing out Regulus's hair. It was enchanted to dry hair as it was used so by the time Sirius was done, Regulus's locks were dried.

"Robes?" Regulus asked as Sirius began brushing his own hair.

Sirius hesitated. He wasn't sure, and if he dressed them in the wrong attire there'd be hell to pay. "I'm not sure. I'll ask." He tied the towel around Regulus and wrapped the other around himself, leading Regulus down the hall to his room.

Once in Regulus's room, Sirius had him summon Kreacher again to inquire about the clothing. Kreacher huffed and grumbled but informed them they were allowed in suits. Sirius knew if it had just been him Kreacher probably would haven't given the truth but Kreacher, for some weird reason, liked to take care of Regulus and wouldn't do anything to put him in danger.

"Tank you," Regulus said and Kreacher bowed before disapparating.

"You don't need to thank him," Sirius growled as he opened up Regulus's closet, looking at the clothes.

"Keacher nice," Regulus said again.

"To you." Sirius grabbed the chair at Regulus's desk, dragging it over so he could climb up and reach the hangers. He pulled down a nice dark green suit, crisply pressed, a ruffled white shirt to go with it.

"Don't _like_!" Regulus wailed when he saw the ruffles.

"I don't either but you know Mother does," Sirius said, hopping off the stool. "Come on."

They went to Sirius's room where he got Regulus dressed, finishing with the jacket, buttoning it carefully then brushing it off. He fixed Regulus's hair then stepped back, looking at him critically. He nodded, then had Regulus put socks and shoes on while he himself got dressed in a similar suit. He made a face at the ruffled neck of the shirt but hoped it would gratify their mother at least a little.

"Look good, Siri," Regulus said.

Sirius smiled, readjusting Regulus's jacket. "We do," he agreed, turning to look at their reflection. Regulus held onto Sirius's hand, and stuck his other fingers in his mouth. "Hopefully good enough."

He pulled Regulus out and down the hall, and went to find their mother, hoping he hadn't overlooked or missed anything. They found Walburga in one of the retiring rooms with their Uncles Alphard and Cygnus, Aunt Druella, and the only cousin who hadn't gone to Hogwarts yet: Narcissa. All adults except for Alphard turned a critical eye on the two boys.

"They get taller every time I see them," their Uncle Alphard said, raising his wineglass to his lips. "Such handsome boys. You must be proud."

"Of course," Walburga said in a sickly sweet voice, giving Sirius a _look_ that meant something was wrong with their appearance. His heart dropped, and he hoped whatever it was she'd just take it out on him and not Regulus too. "Now. Why don't the children go wait in the playroom until dinner is ready?"

"I'm not a child," Narcissa said with the maturity of a six year old.

"Narcissa," warned her mother.

"Yes, Mother." She turned on her heels and marched past Sirius and Regulus, head held high. Sirius followed, pulling Regulus along behind. He heard his mother excuse herself and she came out into the hall after them.

Clawed nails wrapped around Sirius's arm and she jerked him close. "You be on your best behavior," she hissed into his ear, squeezing his arm. "Or _else_. And fix. Your. Damn. Button."

She shoved him away and he stumbled back into Regulus, glancing down at his own jacket; the top button was undone. He quickly buttoned it, took Regulus's hand again, and followed Narcissa into the playroom. Regulus padded after his brother, remaining silent, eyes locked on his brother's back, knowing no matter what happened Sirius would keep him safe.

*

15 February, 1965. _The Evans Household_

Lily knelt on the couch, looking out the window at the swirling snow with a smile. It was past the time Petunia got out of classes and she was waiting with impatience.

"Mummy!" she called, scrambling off the couch. "Pet come back soon?"

Hyacinth turned around, looking affectionately down at her younger daughter. "Yes, she'll be home soon. Go and wait. If you keep coming back to ask you may miss her."

Lily nodded and ran back to the couch. She thought she saw a figure down the street and leaned forward, pressing her nose to the glass. "PET!" she screamed, breath fogging up the window. "PET! Mummy, Pet's coming! Can I go?"

"You're not dressed—Lily!"

Lily ran to the door and wrenched it open, hurrying into the damp porch in only her stocking feet. "Petunia!" She waved her arms wildly, jumping up and down.

Petunia stopped and began waving back, then began running. "Lily, the snow is so deep!" she called out, hurrying up the porch stairs, braids bouncing. She bent down to hug Lily tightly. "You shouldn't be out without shoes."

She shooed her sister back into the house and Lily began dancing, hopping from foot to foot. "Can we go play?"

"Yes, of course, after my snack," Petunia laughed, untying her knit hat. She sat down and Lily helped her pull her snow boots off. "How were your classes?"

"Ummm, fun I guess," Lily said, setting Petunia's boots neatly by the heater. "Norman Finch kept pulling my hair."

Petunia smiled. "Maybe he likes you."

Lily crinkled her nose. "Ew. He shouldn't pull my hair! That mean."

They went into the kitchen where Hyacinth set out the snacks. The sisters munched away on the fruit, Lily swinging her legs happily as she thought about everything they'd be able to do. Sledding and snowballs and a snowman! It had been a while since they had some good snow. The last few times it was more than a couple inches deep by the time Lily and Petunia had been able to get out it had turned really slushy.

"Don't forget, you two need to practice tonight," Hyacinth said as she washed her hands.

"Awww! But—but _Mum_!" Petunia whined. "I have homework."

"I don't mind practicin'," Lily said cheerfully.

Petunia rolled her eyes. "That's cause the piano is neater and _easier_ than the violin!"

"I think you do the violin real good," Lily said. "It only sometimes sounds like a screeching cat."

Petunia threw a pear slice at Lily who squealed, ducking, giggling. " _Lily_! You rotten brat! Mum, did you hear her?!"

Lily threw an apple slice and Petunia flung another bit of pear back and Lily would have thrown more fruit but Hyacinth told them if they kept that up they wouldn't be allowed to go play outside.

Snow swept against Lily's face as she and Petunia left the house. Both were bundled up in snowsuits and thick hats, making boot prints as they headed down the street, the sledge dragging behind Petunia.

"How deep is it gonna get?" Lily asked, looking down at how high it had gotten so far. "Maybe we gonna get buried in it."

"It won't snow that much."

"Maybe it _will_ ," Lily said, looking back up with a smile. "Think 'bout it, we wake up and we're buried under snow."

"We'd be dead."

"Nuh-uh."

"Uh-huh."

"How would we breathe?"

Lily looked up at the grey sky and swirling flakes. "Magic," she said and stuck her tongue out to catch some of the pretty cold whiteness.

They headed west, towards the edge of town, intending to go to the fields to work on the biggest snowman they'd ever make before they did anything else. The snow was getting even deeper and Lily carefully lifted her feet as she walked, a little slower than Petunia who was getting farther and farther ahead. She tried to hurry and then slid, falling down, rolling through the snow a bit.

"Petunia!" she cried out, trying to get the snow out of her face. "Peettunniaaaa!" She couldn't see her sister anymore, and grew scared. What if Petunia left her and she died out in the cold? "PETUNIA!"

"Sheesh, Lils!" Petunia was there, hauling Lily to her feet. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lily sniffled, wiping her nose off on her mitten. "You disappeared."

"I did not, I was right in front of you."

"Were _not_ you were _gone_!"

Petunia brushed Lily off then took hold of her hand. "Don't be such a scaredy-cat."

"Am NOT!" Lily snapped, trying to wrench her hand free. "Am NOT a scaredy-cat! You ran off!"

Petunia grabbed Lily by the shoulders. "I did not! Don't say that. I wouldn't do that. Okay?"

They got to the fields which were empty, no other kids. The sisters exchanged grins and ran out, making a snowball and rolling it along till it got bigger. Lily watched until it got too big for Petunia to push on her own then she joined her sister, both sets of hands pressing, forcing the ball to continue moving, forcing it to get bigger. Finally it got too much of an effort for them to move it any more and they began packing snow around it to make it even bigger.

"Biggest snowman ever," Lily said, and Petunia agreed. "It going to be as big as a house!"

"Not that big," Petunia cautioned. "We can't make it _that_ big."

"Can so," Lily muttered.

Once the bottom was big enough to satisfy the girls they began working on the middle. This one was harder to do since they had to push it up onto the bottom sphere, but they managed, then began packing snow to fill it out.

"Maybe we should go home," Petunia said, straightening up to look at the sky, shielding her eyes from the wind.

"NO!" Lily shrieked. "No! We gotta finish it!"

"We can make one at home. The storm's getting worse."

"No, please? We just need the head," Lily argued, tugging at Petunia's sleeve.

"Mummy's going to worry—"

"Just the head, Pet, please? Just the head left."

Petunia looked down at her sister then nodded. "All right but as soon as we get the head on we have to go home."

"Yes, after the head."

They began rolling the head together, comparing it to the rest of the body until they decided it was the right size. The bottom and middle were so big Lily could _not_ reach the top and Petunia had to finish it herself.

"I think we—urf—made a mistake—"

"No, put the head on, Pet, please?"

Petunia struggled with pushing the last ball of snow up. "It's too big—"

"Please! You can do it! I want the head on!'

"Why? It's just a snowman!"

"Please?"

Petunia took in a deep breath and gave one last shove. The head teetered and her hands slipped, and then she slipped. She yelped as she hit the ground, and put her arms up because she knew the head would fall on her.

Except it didn't.

Petunia lowered her arms, looking up, jaw dropping.

The head was balanced at an angle against the middle, defying gravity completely.

"What the...?" Petunia sat up a bit more, eyes going huge. Then slowly the ball began moving. Backwards. _Up_ the middle of the snowman until it planted itself firmly on top. "Lily, did—did you see?"

Lily was jumping up and down, clapping her hands. "You did it! Pet!"

Petunia stood up, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. An uncomfortable but thrilling sensation washed over her. "It moved on its own," she said. "How could it do that?"

"You did it!" Lily said.

Petunia blinked then looked at her sister. "I... I did?" she asked slowly.

"You did magic," Lily said, running over.

Petunia looked at her hands then back at the snowman. Magic? She wasn't sure what happened, how it happened, just that it did. "Magic," she whispered. Could she?

"That was so neat, Pet," Lily said, hugging Petunia around the middle. "Can you do more?"

"I—I don't know..." She curled her fingers in then shook her head. "We need to go home. You said you would." Petunia started walking but Lily didn't. She was looking at the snowman still. "Lily, come on."

"Pet, can _I_ do magic?'

"What?"

"If you can do magic can I do magic?"

"It wasn't—" Petunia stopped then walked back, crouching down a little, hands against Lily's arm. She wanted it to be magic as much as Lily did, but didn't want Lily to think magic was real. "It wasn't."

"It _was_!" Lily protested, stomping her foot. "You saw it! I want to do magic like you. I WANT TO DO MAGIC!"

"You can," Petunia said quickly. "If I can do it, you can do it."

"Really?"

"Of course," Petunia promised and took Lily's hand again. "We're sisters. Whatever one of us can do, the other can too, all right?"

Lily glanced back the snowman, then back at her sister, nodding. They walked away, hand in hand, Petunia feeling wistful, and Lily very excited.

*

15 February, 1965. _The Silverlocke Household_

Aegis sat in the hallway, looking up at the clock with a frown on his face. Pretty music floated around him and he tapped his fingers against the bench to the beat, though he mostly felt anxious. It had been several months since they last met up, and he wished he didn't have to again anytime this _century_.

"Eej!" He glanced over, smiling now as his cousin appeared, blonde hair floating around her as her bare feet danced across the hall. There was paint smudged on one cheek, a flower stuck haphazardly in her hair, a crayon behind her ear. "Eej, I think Papa will be here soon," she said. "You should get your shoes on."

"Okay." He hopped down and began pulling the boots on. "Pan come too?"

"You know I can't," Pandora sighed. "I wish I could. When you come back we can build a pillow fort."

He stood up and Pandora crooked her finger. He went over, and she began fixing his hair, tugging it out of the messy ponytail, combing with her fingers, then putting the band back in. Then she turned him around, took the flower from her hair to tuck into his, and then planted a kiss on his forehead. They both looked over as the front door opened.

"Papa!" Pandora said, running into her father's arms. He dropped his briefcase to pick her up, swinging her around in the air, then setting her onto the floor. "Can I come with Eej?"

"No, my dear," her father said regretfully, going to hug Aegis. He was still cold from the light snow falling outside. "Aegis, are you ready? We need to get going."

"Must I?" Aegis asked while Pandora sat down cross-legged, opening her father's briefcase, pulling out the parchment with runes scribbled all over them.

"Yes, I'm sorry." Minos glanced down at his daughter as she turned the paper round and round, trying to make sense of the symbols. He reached down, patting her hair. "Tell your mother we'll be back later.

"Uh-huh," she murmured, not paying attention as she pulled the crayon out from behind her ear and began coloring in the runes.

Aegis sighed and walked to the living room with his uncle, the two of them going to fireplace. Minos took a pinch of floo powder and then held Aegis close. "Hold on tight," he said, and Aegis held onto his uncle obediently; he knew the drill. "Diagon Alley," Minos said clearly and threw the powder in, the flames turning green. He pulled Aegis into the fireplace with him, Aegis burying his face into Minos's leg as they spun around then were spat out on the other end.

Aegis began coughing, staggering away from his uncle while Minos began brushing the bit of soot off of the small boy.

"Hate Floo," Aegis grumbled.

"I know, I do too," Minos said, shaking his head. He got his wand out, using a gentle wind spell to blow off any residue soot then decided he looked good enough. "Right, come on." He took Aegis to the bar. "Excuse me, we're here for—"

"Down the hall, second door on the right," the barkeep said, not even looking up. "He's already here."

Aegis gulped, legs quaking a little as Minos led him through the pub. He grew more and more nervous until they reached the door. Minos knocked, and a sharp voice told them to come in.

Minos opened the door and stepped in, Aegis crowding behind him. "Hello—"

"Where is he?"

Minos gave Aegis a light tug, maneuvering him out from behind him. Aegis looked up at Him. He looked down, eyes scanning every inch of the little child then held up a finger, twirling it. Aegis obediently turned around in a full circle so He could see every inch.

"He looks well fed, healthy," he said then reached out, placing his hand on top of Aegis's head. Aegis thought he was giving him a nice pat or something but instead he wrenched the wilted flower out, squeezing it tightly then letting the crushed petals fall to the floor. "You're treating him well."

"He's my family, of course we are," Minos growled.

He gave a distant sort of smile, shrugging. "Ah, well, I know your feelings. I suppose it's easier for you that he looks so much like his mother, so you're not reminded of me, hmm? Easier for you to care for him?" He didn't wait for Minos to argue. "Come, the food's already here. You're late."

"Hardly," Minus muttered but he pushed Aegis gently over towards the table. Aegis climbed into the chair between the two men, feelings his hands shake, worried he might do something wrong.

"It is hard to believe he's five now," he said, turning his cold eyes onto Aegis. "Did you get my present?"

"Yes, sir," Aegis forced out.

"Now, no need to call me sir," he said with an icy smile.

Aegis wanted to look away, wanted to run away. "Yes, Father," he whispered.

"Good, good." He waved his wand and food began dividing up onto plates. Aegis crinkled his nose slightly at the sight. "Eel," he said. "You will like it. It is very expensive."

Aegis looked at his Uncle Minos who, after making sure He wasn't looking, made a little face. Aegis tried not to giggle and picked up his fork, poking at the meat.

"How is his magic coming along?"

Minos froze, fork halfway to his mouth. "Ah, well, you know how children are. He and Pandora are always causing trouble. We're doing our best to keep it contained."

He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly. "You aren't punishing him, though?"

"Children aren't supposed to do magic—"

He waved his hand impatiently. "If we suppress a child's magic how do we expect them to know we are superior to those who are not magic?"

"I—we aren't... suppressing... his magic. Merely making sure he doesn't do anything dangerous."

But he wasn't listening to Minos anymore, instead focusing on Aegis. "You know we are superior to those who cannot do magic, correct?"

Aegis glanced briefly at his uncle who gave the tiniest of nods. Aegis snapped his gaze back to Him. "Yes, Father."

"Oh, excellent." He turned his attention back to Minos. "I was worried your family would teach him otherwise. Your wife is known for her... bleeding heart ideals." He wiped his fingers off on his napkins as if wiping away something disgusting, as if he'd wipe away any pro-Muggle desires. "As are you."

"As was my sister," Minos muttered into his cup.

"What was that?" he snapped.

Minos smiled. "Nothing. I said the food is delicious."

He threw the napkin down, jaw clenched now. "You know it is only with my grace that I allow him to stay with you, Silverlocke."

"Yes, of course, I—"

"I could go to the Ministry and get legal custody, like that." He snapped his fingers. "My wife may not like it but I could, and would."

Minos paled. "Yes. Yes, I didn't say anything."

He studied Minos then turned back to Aegis who shrank back, terrified he'd go through with his threats. Suddenly his hand snaked out and he snatched Aegis's ponytail. Aegis cried out then bit his lip, trying to stifle the sounds. "What do you think of Muggles?"

"Ahhh—ahhh—bad—they—no good—" he whimpered.

He let go and Aegis fell back, pressing his hand to his scalp. Minos twitched, clearly wanting to put his arm around his nephew and protect him, but not wanting to anger Him any more than he already was.

He ignored Aegis for the rest of the lunch which dragged on what seemed like forever to Aegis, especially since the eel was _disgusting_ and he only ate the side salad. Finally his Uncle Minos and He wrapped things up and stood, shaking hands. He pulled a small bag out of his pocket and held it out, the clinking inside clearly a hefty sum.

"For Aegis," he said.

"We don't need your money," Minos said rather stiffly. "We're doing fine."

"Take it," he said darkly, shoving the bag into Minos's hand. "I want him raised _properly_."

Minos clutched the bag then put it in his pockets. "Aegis, say goodbye."

"G—goodbye," Aegis said.

He squeezed Aegis's shoulder uncomfortably then Minos took Aegis out of the room, back through the pub, and through the fireplace. Back home. Aegis wanted to run to Pandora, but Minos snagged his arm before he could.

"Aegis," he said gently, crouching down. "What do you think of Muggles?"

"They good, Uncle Minos," Aegis said, relieved that he could speak the truth, and erase the lies he had to say earlier. "They like us."

"That's right," Minos said, patting Aegis's head then hugging him. "Go find your cousin."

Aegis fled from the living room, tearing through the house until he burst into Pandora's room, flinging himself into her arms.

*

15 February, 1965. _The Lupin Household_

Hope chopped the carrots up with a stiff arm, bits of carrot flying off the cutting board and onto the floor. She kept looking up at the clock and then it finally happened: she was looking at the clock and the knife came down on her finger. She cried out in pain, dropping the knife.

"Mommy?" Remus asked sleepily.

"I'm fine," she promised, sticking her finger in her mouth, sucking the blood off. Remus blinked a few times then his small head dropped back down onto his arms. "I'll be right back."

She went into the bathroom, getting out one of the potions to rub on her finger. She watched it heal with angry eyes. Once the skin became pink, she shoved the potion back in the cupboard and returned to the kitchen. She ran her thumb along the cut mark, feeling the scar fading. "Afternoon tea will be ready soon," she promised.

"Mmm." Remus didn't even lift his head.

Hope hesitated then went over, sitting down next to him, putting her hand on his back. "Are you all right, sweetie?"

"Tired," he whimpered, rubbing his eyes. When his fists dropped down Hope could see how dark the circles underneath his eyes had gotten. They looked bruised, like someone had punched her baby. He hadn't slept well the night before, waking her and Lyall up with screams and cries, saying he kept dreaming about a monster coming after him in the dark.

"I know," she whispered, rubbing his back. "Come here. Want me to sing?" She pulled him into her lap and his head lolled against her chest. "When I was just a little girl," she sang softly, mouth against his limp hair, "I asked my mother what will I be? Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here's what she said to me. Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Que sera, sera. What will be, will be..." She closed her eyes, holding him tightly, rocking him gently. "When I grew up and fell in love, I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead? Will we have rainbows? Day after day? Here's what my sweetheart said..."

"Que sera, sera," Remus sang softly.

Hope ran her fingers through his hair. "Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Que sera, sera..."

"What will be, will be," Remus finished.

"Now I have a child of my own. He asks his mother...?"

"What will I be?"

She waited for him to sing the next part but he didn't. "Will I be handsome?" she prompted but he was silent. "Will I be rich?" Still nothing. "Remus?"

"Don't want to," he whimpered.

"Okay. It's okay, we don't have to sing—"

"Don't wanna go to the cellar."

Hope froze, entire body stiffening. "Remus..."

"Don't wanna." His tiny voice broke and she could feel his tears splattering against her arm around his chest. "Please? Mommy? I'll be good, I will. Please? I'll be a good boy."

Her heart shattered, as it always did on the full moons. "Remus." She turned him around in her lap to look into his wet eyes. "Oh, my baby." She reached up, brushing one of the tears away, pressing her hand against his smooth cheek. "You are a good boy. Darling. You're a _very_ good boy."

He shook his head, tears flying. "I'll be good. Please. I don't want to. It hurts. It _hurts_."

Now tears slid down Hope's cheeks and she wrapped her arms around his thin frame. "I know, baby. I know. I'm so sorry."

"Please, Mommy. Please? I'll be _good_ , I promise."

"I'm so sorry. Remus. I'm so sorry." She clutched at him tightly, sobbing. "I'm so sorry. You're a good boy. You're so good. I love you so much." She buried her face against him, wishing she could take the pain away, wishing she could undergo the transformation for him. Why hadn't that thing taken her? Why _him_?! He was a child. He was just a child!

Remus rubbed his face against her shirt, and she set him down in his chair. He sat there miserably as she returned to fixing him a sandwich. "Not hungry."

"You need to eat. Before. You have to."

"No."

She set the sandwich and carrots down in front of him. Remus just stared blankly at the food, his golden-amber eyes dull. "Remus, you need to eat."

His arm flung out, swiping everything off the table. Food went everywhere, the plate broke against the far wall. "NO!" Then he burst into a fresh wave of tears and hopped off his chair, running off.

"Remus!" Hope ran after him, following him up the stairs and to his new bedroom. He wasn't moving fast, he was too tired, but he stayed out of her reach, diving under his bed. "Remus, sweetie."

"DON'T! WANT! TO!"

"I know. I know, my love, I know." Hope got onto the floor, looking at him. He was clinging to his new stuffed animal, the black dog he had gotten for Christmas since he had destroyed his old dog when Hope tried to leave it with him for his first transformation, hoping it would comfort him. "I wish you didn't have to."

Remus curled up, his back to her.

"Remus."

His thin voice was hardly audible. "I'm a bad boy."

Hope's chest tightened. "No. No, you're not."

"Yes. Bad Remus. Bad. BAD." He was banging his head against the floor. Hope pushed herself forward, seizing his shirt, dragging him out. He began kicking and screaming. "NO! NO! NO CELLAR! NO CELLAR!"

"Remus!"

He thrashed weakly in her arms, trying to get free, his tiny fist clipping her chin; it felt like she had been punched by an adult. Remus was unnaturally strong now, despite his body thinning even more since the transformations burned off all baby fat from his body. Hope saw stars and nearly dropped him, but managed to keep her hold.

"NO CELLAR!" he wailed. "Nooo. No. Please, no, please Mommy, no..." It didn't take long for his movements to slow down and then stop. He was too tired, too weak during this time of the month to do much. "No cellar." He lay limp in her arms now, panting. "Please, Mommy. _Please_. Don't want to. Please, I don't _want_ to. It hurts. Don't want it."

She just held him, rocking him gently, kissing him, until she saw that it was almost sunset. She stood up, carrying Remus down the stairs to the first floor, then down the stairs to the basement. Remus began wriggling again as he realized what was going on, and sobbed, begging not to go. Hope kept saying 'I'm sorry' over and over, carrying him into the little room Lyall had made, where he had set up numerous defense and silencing spells.

She set Remus down and began undressing him with shaky hands. He looked up at her with hollow eyes, absolutely silent now. He didn't fight as she removed his clothes.

Once naked, he pushed away, curling up on the ground, hugging himself. "No. No. No. No."

"I'm so sorry." She touched his shoulder but he recoiled away from her. She backed out of the room, watching her child laying shivering and naked on the floor of the small concrete room. She could see the knobs of his spine through his skin, how thin and brittle he was despite her trying to put as much food into his body.

"Bad Remus. Bad."

"No, baby." She held onto the door, wishing Lyall were there to help but had just started a new job at a secondhand shop the week before and couldn't ask for time off. Usually he was there to shut the door, to pull Hope away from the room, from their baby. This entire phase she'd be completely on her own taking care of him, the moon rising before Lyall came home, and setting after he left. For the first time, she had to do this on her own. Had to be strong enough to lock her baby away in the darkness. In the morning she'd have to be the one to unlock the door and pick up his broken and bleeding body that always looked like a brutalized corpse to her.

"Yes bad. _Bad_." He began banging his head against the stone floor, each thud a knife in Hope's heart. "Bad Remus. Bad."

Her fingers scrabbled at the metal helplessly, she wanted to go in and hold him through the entire night.

She hesitated...

Then closed the door and locked it, falling to the floor and crying into his clothes.


	7. How Could That Happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one shot chapter takes place during chapters Two, Three, and Four of Book One; right after the Sorting and the first day of classes.

_He wants me to be with him_

_He wants me with him now_

_She just seems to be missing_

_How could that happen anyhow_

_\- No Questions Asked, Fleetwood Mac_

*

As soon as the school song ended (which she barely sang along with, she was far too distracted) and everyone rose to their feet, Lily began making her way to the front of the room. She pushed past people, focused on the person she needed to talk to. She was well aware of the eyes on her but she didn’t care. She had to talk to Professor McGonagall... or at least, she _hoped_ that she was the right person to talk to!

"P—Professor!" The teachers were standing at the High Table, talking, though a couple gave her rather baffled looks. "Excuse me, Professor McGonagall? May I speak to you a moment?"

The pretty witch who had guided the first years in turned to look at Lily in surprise. "Is there a problem?" she asked, glancing towards the doors.

Lily took in a deep breath. "May I speak to you alone for a moment? I—I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but it is _very_ important."

The man she had been talking to chuckled and pat McGonagall's arm. "Looks like you've got a fun crop this year," he murmured before walking away.

McGonagall nodded towards Lily and the two went to the very back corner of the room. Students were watching with a bit of interest but most didn’t seem to care. McGonagall looked down her nose at Lily, waiting.

"There was a mistake," Lily said.

"A... mistake?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm very sorry but you see, I'm supposed to be in Slytherin, not Gryffindor."

Professor McGonagall looked astonished at Lily's words and she hoped it was a _good_ astonished; astonished as in, _oh my a mistake well we can fix that_! But instead the Deputy Headmistress slowly shook her head. "The Hat never makes a mistake."

Lily felt those words pierce her chest. "There has to be," she said quickly, "it _had_ to have! I—I'm a Slytherin. I'm ambitious. And cunning. And—"

"My dear." McGonagall put a hand on her shoulder. "You may have those traits but that is not the only reason the Hat sorts a person into a house. It looks at the traits you _have_ and the traits you desire to have or to emulate, and the traits you feel are important, as well as what atmosphere would help you grow the best."

"But—"

"And within you is very obviously a Gryffindor."

Lily shook her head. "No! I mean, no offense Professor," she added quickly, knowing the woman she was talking to was the Head of Gryffindor. "I'm sure it's a wonderful house and all..." She was sure of no such thing, in fact she was sure of the complete opposite! Maybe she should be talking to the Head of Slytherin instead... "I _know_ I'm a Slytherin."

McGonagall sighed and gave Lily a gentle nudge, making her face the rest of the room. "You need to get to your prefect immediately, and get to your dorm."

"But—"

"I'm sorry you've had a disappointing Sorting however as I said, the Hat does not make mistakes. You're a Gryffindor."

"But—"

"Have a good night, Miss Evans; perhaps some sleep will help."

Lily realized that she wasn't going to get any help from McGonagall. Her eyes darted to the other teachers, wondering which one was in charge of Slytherin. She thought perhaps the rotund wizard who wore a lot of green... but Professor McGonagall had green on as well, not red, so obviously the Heads didn't wear their house colors all the time.

She looked back at McGonagall, wanting to argue further. Wanting to put her foot down. _In the morning, I'll figure out who is in charge of Slytherin and talk to them_ , she thought before heading to the doors, stomach sinking. She'd have to spend an entire night in the _bad house_. But she could deal with it, if it meant going to Slytherin—and Severus—in the morning.

Luckily the prefect was still gathering first years and she didn't have to worry about having someone take her alone. She followed the group, barely aware of them and getting irritated by their excited whispers. They were all happy to be in Gryffindor... except perhaps that Lupin kid who was trailing behind the rest of the group and just looked miserable.

Lily was so focused on her thoughts of Slytherin she didn't pay much attention to the castle or where they were going until they had climbed so many stairs she thought her legs would fall off. Then they were in front of a painting of a very large woman in a pretty pink dress; the prefect stated the password, having everyone climb through. Lily was impatient as she did, wanting to just go to bed so morning could come quicker. Obviously the prefect had a few things to talk about, which was interrupted by another student threatening one of the first years, lifting him clear off the ground like he was going to shake the poor kid.

"Jerroll, what's the matter?" the prefect asked, sounding bored.

"This little brat hit me with a firecracker on the train," the older boy said, shaking the first year who seemed more amused than anything else. Lily wrinkled her nose a bit. Who threw a firecracker at someone?!

"Well, beat him up tomorrow then. I'm giving the tour. Don't disrupt it."

_Well that's pleasant_ , Lily thought, fuming as Jerroll dropped the kid (named Black). It fit in exactly with what Sev had told her about Gryffindors. Bullies! Throwing firecrackers, threatening to beat them up, the _prefect_ not _caring_ if someone beat up a first year! _I don't belong here one bit_! she thought, curling her hands into fists. This was disgusting.

The prefect talked a bit more before indicating which stairwell led to which dorm, and Lily followed the girls up to theirs. There were two dorms labelled **First** **Years** so the girls had to peer in to figure out where they belonged. The first one Lily looked into was the one where her trunk sat. She slid past the other girls at the door, walking over to her trunk, looking around at all the scarlet and gold which... admittedly... was rather pretty. But green and silver would be a whole lot better!

She ignored the other girls who came into the dorm, kneeling in front of her trunk as she got her toiletries and nightgown. She was determined to continue to ignore them but when she stood up she found herself looking into big brown eyes.

"Hi!" The girl held her hand out. "I'm one of your roommates, I guess. Alice Colgate."

"I'm Cassandra Inkwood," said the other girl with a big smile.

Lily swallowed and slowly shook Alice's hand, then Cassandra. "I'm Lily Evans," she said, _and this will be my only night in the dorm_ , she added silently.

"Isn't it exciting?" Alice's eyes practically sparkled. "Finally at Hogwarts!"

"Feels like I've been waiting _forever_ ," agreed Cassandra. "How about you?"

Lily hugged her stuff to her chest. She had been hoping for a few years, ever since she first met Severus and he told her about Hogwarts. "I'm a Muggleborn," she said.

Alice and Cassandra both looked taken aback.

"Ooh, this must be _super_ exciting for you then," said Alice.

"What was it like? Getting the letter?" Cassandra asked.

Lily looked down, wanting to erase everything of that day from her mind. "I—I don't... I need to use the loo. 'Scuse me." She dashed past them and into the bathroom where there were some other first year girls getting ready. Lily went into one of the shower stalls, setting her things on the floor, then sitting on the little stool, hands over her face. She felt dizzy and a little bit ill. Overwhelmed. She wanted to just _leave_ the Gryffindor area and search until she found the Slytherins, until she found Severus, the only person who had never once made her feel like a freak.

The other girls finished getting ready for bed and left, and as soon as the door shut and Lily was left alone she began crying. _I don't beLONG here, I'm NOT a Gryffindor, I'm not!_ She moved to the floor so she could curl up in a ball, face in her nightgown. How could this have happened? How could things have gone so wrong?

The door opened and Lily hiccuped, and held her breath, trying to stifle the tears.

"Um, Lily?" It was Alice. Under the shower curtains, Lily could see Alice's slippered feet walking through the bathroom. "Lily, are you all right?"

"Yes," Lily said, struggling to keep her voice even so it didn't sound like she had been crying. The last thing she needed was pity. "I'm just... thinking."

Alice came over to the stall but didn't try to come in or anything, just stood outside the curtain. "Are you sure?"

_Go away_! "Yes. Thank you."

The slippers didn't move. "Were you crying?"

Lily grit her teeth. "No, of course not."

"Okay. You just sounded a bit... well, if you need anything... I'm here for you. I know it must be really... strange. Being dumped into a magical world. But I'm here if you need it." Then Alice turned and left the bathroom.

Lily let out a long breath and flopped back. _I don't_ want _you here for me, I want Sev_.

She began crying until she was all cried out then went to wash her face, brush her teeth, braid her hair, and get her nightgown on. She stared at her blotchy-faced reflection then went back to the dorm, hoping the other two would be asleep by now even though it wasn't _that_ late.

They weren't, they were sitting on the edge of Cassandra's bed and both smiled when Lily came in, then frowned seeing her face. Lily just hurried to her own bed and dove in, shutting the curtains. She could hear the two of them whispering, and heard that they figured it was because she was a Muggleborn which was fine, let them think that.

Lily rolled over so her back was to them (even though they couldn't see her) and tried to go to sleep, but it simply wouldn't come. She lay awake as Alice and Cassandra said their goodnights and went to sleep, and was still awake when the clock struck midnight. Around that time she felt more tears well up and she stuck her head under her pillow to keep herself muffled if she began crying again.

She felt so alone.

Of course, even if she were in Slytherin she knew she'd be sharing with girls she didn't know and would be similarly alone, but at least she'd have Sev around. Perhaps they could have stayed up in the common room talking. Or met up early in the morning. _We can, in the morning_ , she thought and was seized with the knowledge that surely Severus would wake up extra early to meet her in front of the Great Hall! And he could tell her who was in charge of Slytherin, and they could get it worked out together.

Satisfied with that, Lily finally fell asleep.

*

Loud bird noise noises tore Lily out of her dreams and she nearly fell out of bed. She fumbled around, _very_ confused, until the bird chirps cut off suddenly. She peered over at Alice who was turning off an alarm clock.

"I like it better than the ringing or beeping," said Alice rather sheepishly when she spotted Lily watching.

"That was dreadful!" complained Cassandra, slithering out of her bed. "Might as well make it a rooster crow." Just then Cassandra's alarm went off, a classic bell ringing.

"Oh, and that's better?" Alice asked.

Cassandra turned it off and shrugged. "Couldn't be _worse_."

Lily swore under her breath realizing that she hadn't gotten up at the crack of dawn like she planned. Hopefully Severus was still waiting for her...

She jumped out of bed and got ready for the day, making a face at the scarlet and gold accents that had been added to her uniform in the night. _Looks awful with my hair_ , she thought, looking in the mirror and trying to figure out how to tie the tie. Her father had practiced with her loads in August but her fingers fumbled, forgetting.

"Need help?" Alice offered.

"Um. Y—yes, thank you..."

Alice tied her own tie slowly, and Lily was able to follow. It was a slightly different knot than what her father had done but it looked just as nice. "Thank you," Lily said again, and felt bad for the awful thoughts she had about Alice the night before.

"No problem!"

"Big problem," Cassandra said, tying her shoes. "Anyone remember where the Great Hall is?"

Alice had a sharp intake of breath. "Erm, I... I have _no_ idea..."

"Me either," Lily admitted. "Don't they provide us with maps or something?" Both the girls looked at her blankly. "Orrrrr maybe not..."

"I guess we'll figure it out together," laughed Alice.

They got their school satchels together, no idea what their classes might be so they pretty much filled them with all their school books. The bag was very heavy and the strap cut into Lily's shoulder. Alice said something about after getting their schedules they can come back and drop off the books they don't need at lunch, and Cassandra didn't seem keen on trooping all the way up to the tower. Lily wondered where the Slytherin common room was. Hopefully not as high!

The three girls wandered around until they happened to meet up with a prefect who took them down to the Great Hall. Lily looked around the front area but didn't see Severus. When she went in, she followed the girls to the Gryffindor table however her eyes were scanning the Slytherin table.

_There_! she thought, seeing him sitting by himself, head down. She sent out _look up!_ vibes but his head remained down. Reluctantly she sat down, unsure if she should just go over. She got her food and turned her eyes to the High Table, barely aware of someone handing them their schedules until she heard Alice say something about Slytherins.

"What was that?" Lily asked.

"We have class with the Slytherins," Alice said, wriggling a piece of paper.

"Potions is _always_ with Slytherins," Cassandra said in a knowing voice. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, and Astronomy with the Ravenclaws."

"We don't have classes with the other house the rest of the time?" Lily asked, startled. Sev had never said anything but she assumed...

"Not until our sixth year," Cassandra explained, slathering marmalade on her toast. "And the electives we take in our third year will be with the other houses."

Lily checked the schedule but wasn't sure who else were the heads of houses so she asked. Cassandra, who had an older sister, informed her that Flitwick was in charge of Ravenclaw, Sprout for Hufflepuff, and Slughorn for Slytherin.

_So, I'll be seeing Professor Slughorn today_ , she thought, and asked which one Slughorn was, but Cassandra wasn't sure. Alice thought it might be the rotund wizard, but she wasn't sure either. Lily frowned. She had Transfiguration and History, and then lunch, and then Potions. Should she wait until Potions? Since she didn't want to go to each professor and ask who Slughorn was she figured it would be best, though that meant waiting all morning and lunch.

_I can deal with it_ , she decided and returned to watching Severus. He looked up at one point and her heart jumped. She gave him a smile and wave but to her dismay he looked slightly panicked. He glanced around then ducked his head again. Lily's hand fell, her smile fading. _What was that about_?

Shortly after a bunch of owls came swooping in and Lily was startled. Alice explained about how magical folk sent the post and Lily replied she had known about that, having gotten an owl in Diagon Alley, but hadn't really expected this. It was really pretty seeing all the different owls. Her owl—Elizabeth—flew in. She didn't have any post but landed on Lily's arm, and Lily gave her some toast.

Then there was a booming voice that filled the enormous room.

"SIRIUS—BLACK—HOW—DARE—YOU—BE—PLACED—IN—GRYFFINDOR!"

Lily jerked, and Bessie flew off, squawking in surprise. "What on _earth_?!" Lily gasped out.

"YOU HAVE BROUGHT ABSOLUTE SHAME ON THE BLACK FAMILY NAME WHICH CONSIDERING YOUR LIFE UP UNTIL NOW IS A WONDER YOU'VE MANAGED TO HUMILIATE US MORE THAN YOU ALREADY HAVE!"

Everyone was looking at the Gryffindor table, at four first year boys, at a scarlet letter which seemed to be the source of the screaming.

"It's a Howler," Alice said though her voice was lost under the sound of the... Howler? Which continued to insult Sirius Black until it burst into flames, and the ashes fell to the table.

There was some laughter and Lily shook her head, trying to clear her ears. 'What did you call it?"

"A Howler," Alice explained, returning to her food. "You send one when you're really mad at someone."

_How dare he be placed into Gryffindor_ , she thought, and wondered where the kid was 'supposed' to be. Wondered why the Hat put kids into houses they weren't supposed to be in... or didn't _want_ to be in...

She left the Great Hall fifteen minutes before class began, hoping Severus would come out. She hung around, shifting her heavy bag from shoulder to shoulder until the other first year Gryffindors started coming out. Severus still hadn't appeared, and if she lost sight of the other Gryffindors she'd have trouble getting to class. Reluctantly she turned away, following the Gryffindors.

Lily wasn't sure what to think of Professor McGonagall, and she had the feeling McGonagall felt the same about her after her insistence on being wrongly Sorted. Lily sat down in the front, _no_ idea what to expect. Would this be like class in Muggle school? Or something else completely? To her right one of the boys was carefully setting out his book, parchment, and quill, so Lily followed suit.

When Severus had first shown her how magical folk wrote she thought it had to be a joke. Surely not _everyone_ wrote that way! But going into Diagon Alley and seeing _no_ pens and hardly any pencils had made her realize he was right. She had practiced all of August but still hadn't quite got the skill down very well.

Professor McGonagall introduced herself, explained about Transfiguration, then turned her desk into a small pony. Lily couldn't help but gasp, and clap along with some of the other students. She had seen _small_ magic... accidental magic she performed... nothing like _that_.

But one day she'd be able to _do_ that!

Their first class contained a long lecture and then all the students were given matchsticks to turn into a needle. Lily held her wand, glancing from side to side to figure out if she was holding it right.

"Acus forma!" Lupin, who sat next to her, exclaimed and she eagerly watched though nothing happened; he seemed pretty disappointed.

Lily turned back to her own matchstick. _Okay, you can do this_ , she thought, staring wide-eyed down at the little thing. But before she could do anything McGonagall had to go put a fire out in the back. It was the boy who had received a Howler, giving a very impish grin at the teacher as she scolded him.

Once that settled down, Lily tried. "Acus forma!" she said, and gave a flourish she hoped was the right movement. Nothing happened. She began trying again and again, and by the time class ended it had gone quite grey. Lupin had gotten his matchstick to go grey as well but more silver, and when McGonagall tapped it against his desk it made a faint clinking sound. Completely metal.

Lily felt a bit jealous as he was told he had done an _excellent_ job.

McGonagall dismissed class and Lily intended to stay behind to talk to her again but, "Mr. Lupin, would you stay behind for a moment, please."

Lily reluctantly put her things in her bag and left, figuring it was for the best. This way she could talk to Slughorn first.

*

The second class of the day was History and it was taught by a ghost. At first Lily was very fascinated... until she realized he just basically repeated what their History book said, and in a very _droning_ sort of manner to boot. She took some notes but mostly just copied down the page numbers Professor Binns read from.

After History was lunch. Lily searched the Slytherin table for Severus however didn't see him. She sat down by herself though was soon joined by Alice and Cassandra, talking about how boring Binns had been, and how interesting Transfiguration was. About five minutes later Severus showed up. Lily smiled and tried to wave to catch his eye but he kept his head down, making a beeline for the Slytherin table where he sat by himself; nobody joined him.

Severus left a bit early and Lily quickly shoved the rest of her food in her mouth. "See you in class!" She grabbed her bag and ran out of the Great Hall. " _Sev_!" she exclaimed once she burst through the doors, but he wasn't there. "Sev?"

She had assumed he left early to wait for her, so they could finally talk. Except... he was nowhere to be seen.

Lily looked around, and asked a couple Ravenclaw students if they had seen a first year Slytherin boy go by. They both gave her weird looks and wanted to know why anyone would care about a Slytherin. The Ravenclaws walked off laughing. Lily glared after them then began searching some of the side corridors, asking paintings. She finally tracked him down to the dungeons—to where their next class was starting. Unfortunately, she showed up close to when class was starting, and was unable to speak to Severus or Slughorn alone.

Severus was sitting at a table with three other Slytherins; she couldn't join him. Feeling defeated, she went to the nearest open desk, sliding in next to Lupin, the boy who had done excellent in Transfiguration. He seemed even more frightened than he did when McGonagall asked him to stay behind. She wondered what had happened, if he had been in trouble? Surely not! He seemed... way too innocent to ever get in trouble. Or perhaps he only seemed that way.

Actually, he _kinda_ reminded her of a Dickens character. Small helpless waif with big eyes.

Alice and Cassandra joined her, but when Slughorn asked them to pair off she wound up with Lupin. She would have rather been partners with Severus but he wasn't anywhere near her, and it looked like he was pairing up with the Slytherin next to him anyway. Besides, she had seen Lupin reading during lunch and had the feeling he was really smart.

Smart? Maybe. Good at making potions? No. Their combined efforts turned into something _completely_ wrong from the book, but at least their grade at the end was okay. Severus had gotten praised for his potion and even had five points awarded, which made Lily swell with pride. She couldn't wait to congratulate him... except as soon as class was dismissed, Severus hurried away. Lily was torn between going after him and staying to talk to Slughorn. Talking to Slughorn was definitely the number one priority; once she was in Slytherin she'd have ample time to chat with Sev.

Lily saw some Slytherins going to talk to Slughorn before she could so she left the classroom, figuring she'd wait.

"I—I didn’t mean to—to—"

She looked at Lupin attempting to speak. During class he had seemed to have difficulty speaking and she realized it was just him and not nerves from class. He was looking at her with big, anxious eyes, clearly blaming himself for the potion going wrong.

"It's all right," she said, giving him an encouraging smile. "At least it wasn't as bad as Nettle and Struthers. I admit, I rather enjoyed the class." Despite having difficulty, she certainly did have fun! "It's a lot like baking," she went on, nearly saying 'cooking' then realizing it had more in common with baking. With cooking having a pinch too much of something didn't necessarily ruin the dish. Having a pinch too much of something in baking—and making potions—could end in catastrophe!

Lupin still seemed a bit edgy, and besides the Slytherins who had stayed behind still hadn't come out, so Lily kept talking, or tried to. "My sister and I used to bake all the—ouch!" She was slammed forward against Lupin who staggered back under her weight. Lily whirled around, glaring at the two boys who had gone running by. Howler boy, and his friend who wore glasses. She couldn't remember their names. She had seen them running around earlier. "Goodness, do they have to run _everywhere_?"

She turned back to Lupin, seeing him preparing to walk off. "Wait!" she said and he jumped. "Do you want to come to the library with me? I guess I should say _find_ the library. I heard it's massive so it shouldn't be too difficult."

Lupin bit his lip, looking troubled on what to say. Lily felt a little guilty for just assuming he might want to, but he had done very well in Transfiguration, had taken loads of notes in History, and spent all of lunchtime reading. Having someone else who enjoyed studying would be great, even if they wound up in different houses. Severus would probably really like him too.

"S—sorry, can't." He seemed quite panicked now. "I, er, have to—to—the hospital wing."

Lily was startled by this. "Oh! Are you okay?"

That just seemed to make him more panicked. "Erm, y—yes. Sort of. Er. S—sorry." With that he took off running.

Lily watched him go, absolutely puzzled by his behavior. What had that been about? Did she offend him? Had she broken some... weird... unknown... magical rule? Maybe witches didn't invite wizards to the library? If _that_ were the case, that was stupid. Besides, Sev would have told her if—

The Slytherins left finally and Lily beamed, brushing past them, hurrying into the Potions classroom. "Professor!"

He was tidying up his desk, probably preparing for his next class. Lily would need to make it quick but surely once she explained he'd understand.

"Ah, Miss... Evans?"

"Yes," she said, going towards him. "I had a question—"

"About what we covered today?"

"N... no. No, sir. You're—you're the head of Slytherin, right?"

Professor Slughorn seemed surprised by that question. "Yes, of course. Why? Did a Slytherin bother you?"

Lily wrinkled her forehead at the confusing question. "Did...? N-no. No. I have a problem, see, and—"

"Ahhh, well, I'm sure Professor McGonagall would be more than happy to help you—"

"No," she said and he raised his eyebrows. "Sir, sorry for—for interrupting. I know it's rude but I—the thing is there was a big mistake. Last night. At the Sorting. The Hat—it put me into Gryffindor. I'm supposed to be a Slytherin." She ignored his _very_ shocked look, and plunged on with a few lies. "It—it said I should be a Slytherin but was worried because I'm a Muggleborn. But I'll be fine. I belong in Slytherin. I'm very ambitious, and cunning, and—and _very_ resourceful, everyone says so."

Sev said so. He might as well have been everyone. Plus her parents often called her clever, if that counted as cunning.

"Miss Evans—"

"I was hoping to be able to get this fixed before supper, but I know you have another class so it can wait till after supper," she went on, not wanting him to worry about moving her right this second.

"Miss Evans—"

"I haven't unpacked anything so we can move my trunk to the Slytherin dorm easily—"

" _Miss Evans_!"

She closed her mouth, eyes sparkling as she waited for his promise to get her where she belonged.

Slughorn gave a long sigh and sat down at his desk. "I appreciate your passion for wanting to be in Slytherin, however the Hat _never_ makes a mistake."

Her smile faded, and her heart began to crack.

"There have... very rarely, I admit... been Muggleborns in Slytherin. If the Hat truly felt you belonged in Slytherin, it would have put you in Slytherin. Obviously it saw in you a Gryffindor."

Her heart _shattered_.

"I really hope you're able to get settled into your new dorm well enough, and if there's anything I can do to help, why, of course I'll help you, and I _know_ Minerva—Professor McGonagall—will do what she can to help. Now, unless you have any questions pertaining to today's lesson...? No? Best get going, then, my dear. Have a good afternoon."

Lily slowly walked out of the classroom, bumping into older students who were waiting to go in for their class. She went past them, drifting down the corridor until she found a little recessed area where she could sit.

She dropped her bag to the floor and sank onto the bench, huddled over, hands covering her face.

McGonagall wouldn't help.

_Slughorn_ wouldn't help.

Severus hadn't spoken to her all day.

The Hat...

_Oh_ _no_ , she thought, sliding her hands down to wrap her arms around her middle, rocking back and forth. _Oh, no, oh no_! A Gryffindor. A _Gryffindor_!

Tears dampened her cheeks, and she had no idea how she could possibly get through Hogwarts now.


End file.
